We were halfway through the fourth inning, and honestly, I was more focused on keeping Baxter cool than watching the score.
It was Bark at the Park night, and my golden retriever was loving every minute of it—ears perked, tail thumping, nose working overtime. People kept stopping to pet him, and he soaked it all up like he was the mayor of the stadium.
I turned for maybe thirty seconds to grab my drink.
That’s all it took.
When I looked back, Baxter was sitting proudly in the aisle, wagging like a maniac… with a fully loaded hot dog hanging out of his mouth.
I froze…
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