Dear McCarren Dog Park,
You already know how much I love you. I’m sure you could tell by the way I casually approach you, day after day, to peer through your wrought iron fences that I was in this for the long-haul.
We’ve got a healthy thing going, I think. You provide unabashed entertainment and happiness, and in return I carefully deposit my iced-coffee cups in your trash receptacles without fail.
You’ve always been there for me, MDP. Sometimes it even feels like you can read my mind. If I’m feeling sad, you call in a Rottweiler with a tongue so long it nearly trips on it to cheer me up. When I’m feeling lonely, you make sure you’ve got at least one dog who looks exactly like its owner to warm my heart. And on our best days, you’ll even send a bouncy little puppy over to the fence and let me pet it’s round little head. It’s on these days that I know you love me too. I know that we’re soul mates.
I love everything you stand for, MDP. You’re a microcosm of our society. Your daily life is rife with power struggles, vicious fights, flirtation and heart break. You always know who’s humping who, who’s hoarding the soggy tennis balls and who has problems with incontinence. But despite the drama, every day you welcome Brooklyn’s canine population into your grounds — to chew your sticks and dig up your dirt. You create a bubble where Chihuahuas and Great Danes can wrestle while their hipster parents watch on. Then everybody puts on their leashes and goes home. You’re an escape from the constant crush of people and concrete — one of the many things that make you so beautiful.
Sometimes I wonder why so many people can’t see how truly magnificent you are, MDP. But I don’t spend too much time worrying about it, because that just leaves more of you for me. I guess this makes me a selfish lover.
One day we will be together, MDP. It won’t be long now until I have a dog of my own and I can enter your space with a leash held proudly in my hand. But until that time comes, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to ogle you from afar. Just being in your presence, MDP, makes the days just a little bit easier for this struggling 23 year old. It gives her something to aspire to, it gives her hope, and it gives her a reason to smile each time she finds out she didn’t get the job.
You are all that is right in the world, my beloved MDP. I couldn’t bear to let another day go by without letting you know my true feelings. Thank you for being you.
P.S. I’ll see you tomorrow.