Dragging her along the sidewalks, we finally reached the muddy patches of grass inside Prospect Park. I let her off-leash and encouraged her to roam around on her own, but she just looked up at me, blinking the rain out of her big brown eyes.

Ugh.

We walked further into the park, near the wall along Prospect Park West. She would stop to look up at me but not to use the bathroom.

Finally, I said, “Okay, Lola. Let’s go.” She started making a bee-line for the park entrance. Where does Lola think she’s going, I thought to myself. I caught up to her and clipped the leash onto her harness. The rain started coming down harder and the lightening was flashing with greater frequency. Lola tugged at me, so I let her lead the way.

Without any guidance from me, Lola walked us all the way home. She crossed the street at the sidewalk we almost always use, and again at the corner near our apartment. There was no hesitation in her steps. She knew exactly where she was going.

I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise to me that Lola knows her own way home, considering she figure it out on Christmas Eve, when she ran away. But it still made me look at her in amazement. She’s truly a wonder dog.

Sammy monitors activity from the armrest.

Lady: “I’m getting so squished here in this spot. Do you mind if I move over to that space?”

 

Man: “Uh, lady, there ain’t so space there.”

Sammy found a new place to nap on the couch.

The idea I came up with was a “canine hand warmer” — a heavy-duty plastic bag made with thermally-activated technology. After your dog does its business, the heat from the poop triggers the sensors in the bag to act as a warming device. The heat would last long enough for you to finish your walk. The bag would be a perfect accessory for those cold days in winter when you want some warmth in your pocket.

I admit, it’s not the most elegant idea, but the writers at SNL were thinking along the same lines.