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Strolls among dogs

With such beautiful weather, Willow and I have been outside A LOT these past several days (and I've got the A-plus farmer's tan to prove it).
We've spent most our time in the backyard, playing on the swing set or in Willow's brand-new "Country Cottage" playhouse (she loves the wall-mounted wireless phone the best; I tell you, though, she has the shortest conversations on that thing, usually spanning, "Hey ... *nod* ... bye!"). We also went to the park one day (Willow saw bunches of turtles, some fish, some ducks and even a heron).
This morning (primarily because I forgot my wallet in the other car and couldn't drive to the Y for my workout), Willow hopped in the jogging stroller, and I pushed her MIGHTILY for a three-mile jaunt. Willow loves the jogging stroller, and I forget she does (some days, on my shorter runs, I need to remember this and save us both from the tribulations of packing gym and diaper bags and loading up the car).
During our runs, I try to push Willow past as many dogs as I can; she loves puppies, you know. This is counter to the routes I take on my normal runs; I don't much care to tempt dogs by running by their properties, inevitably having quite of a few of them come biting at my heels (once, a tiny dog clamped his canines on the back of my shoe, and in shock, I whipped my leg, sending the little guy sailing through the air, much to the horror of his owner; I kept running).
But with Willow, I don't mind having to face down a dog or two. Most the pups are nice, and Willow lights up for them. "Puppy!" she screams. "Yep, it's a puppy," I puff.
We saw more than a dozen doggies today, and I'm happy to report Willow gushed over every single one of them, and only one came after us, a fierce (and persistent) chihuahua. I managed to outpace him.

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