I posted this photo on facebook today, as a TBT (or ThrowBack Thursday) blast from the past. Zoe was the first dog that I ever had, and we were always looking for things to do with the dog in the pre-children days.
Back in the 1990s, the Chicago White Sox had a promotion called “Dog Day” in which a small section of the outfield was set aside for fans who wanted to buy a ticket for their dogs.
The new Comiskey Park never had the gritty, historical charm that the old park did. But a chance to see a ballgame with your dog doesn’t happen very often, so we went. And it was fun, especially when my dog broke ranks during the pregame parade around the warning track.
Almost as if on cue, Zoe went onto the outfield grass and relieved herself. She did what I could only dream of doing. It may have been the proudest I could feel about a dog.
Zoe brought much joy to our lives before she died in 2009. And now we have another dog, named Dooney, and he does the same. But he’ll never get the chance to pee on the field at Comiskey Park, either.
A fond remembrance of a cherished pet. Isn’t that the stuff life is made of?