A Routine Ride (contains obscene cuteness)

(Finally I got the photo op with the pups that I wanted. But say, the litter is getting smaller every day.)

I forgot to bring the camera. How many times have you said that -- and meant it, regretfully, bitterly? My dog, Coffee Girl, and I were doing a routine ride this morning. We were about to enter a large city park that gobbles up a hill where, in olden times, mining got started above the Little Pueblo.

The animal shelter sits at the entrance to the city park. On our side of their building they have a cage that is separate from most of the animal cages, which are on the far side of the building. And in that cage were ten squirming fuzzballs, perhaps two separate litters of puppies. They beckoned us and I surrendered, with little fight.

We've all seen the image before so many times: squirming puppies. It gets used by advertisers on television when the ad wants to soften you up about something. But I've never really experienced such an opportunity before -- not in the flesh. So I stuck my fingers through the chain link fence, and into their holding pen. Every finger was attacked, nibbled, and sucked on. Every two seconds the winners changed. What an absolute free-for-all!

One of the litters was of Australian shepherds, maybe 10 weeks old. They looked like they were wearing little tri-color tuxedos of soft fur.