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You've done the tummy rub and played fetch at the park. How's about a little doggy dancing? Mile High Musical Tails, the Colorado chapter of the WCFO, offers you and your pet the chance to put on the dog in style. Classes are available through the Blue Springs & KatyDid Dog Training Center in Sheridan, and lessons are open to dogs and owners of all ages. Excessive obedience isn't necessary -- just creativity. The music, choreography and costuming will have your mutt struttin' in no time.


Here's something to howl about: An offshoot of the Boulder group, these doggie devotees are dedicated to the promotion of responsible off-leash recreation in Denver. And they're not just hollering for more dog parks: They also have an eye on the future, exploring ways to keep such spaces clean, safe and usable for all. This is one group that's not going to roll over and play dead.
Here's something to howl about: An offshoot of the Boulder group, these doggie devotees are dedicated to the promotion of responsible off-leash recreation in Denver. And they're not just hollering for more dog parks: They also have an eye on the future, exploring ways to keep such spaces clean, safe and usable for all. This is one group that's not going to roll over and play dead.
The outdoor patios along Fillmore Street are the place for Cherry Creek yuppies to see and be seen...with their dogs. The block between 2nd and 3rd avenues is a veritable dog show on Saturday mornings, when pooches of every pedigree accompany their human companions as they sip Starbucks lattes and satisfy their cream-cheese fix at Einstein Bros. Bejeweled ladies on their way to the mall strut by with their toy dogs; single men bring their puppies to woo the women; and families stop by for breakfast with their Labs and golden retrievers. It's the closest thing Denver has to Westminster -- the kennel club, not the suburb.
The outdoor patios along Fillmore Street are the place for Cherry Creek yuppies to see and be seen...with their dogs. The block between 2nd and 3rd avenues is a veritable dog show on Saturday mornings, when pooches of every pedigree accompany their human companions as they sip Starbucks lattes and satisfy their cream-cheese fix at Einstein Bros. Bejeweled ladies on their way to the mall strut by with their toy dogs; single men bring their puppies to woo the women; and families stop by for breakfast with their Labs and golden retrievers. It's the closest thing Denver has to Westminster -- the kennel club, not the suburb.


With endless acres, three lakes and seemingly endless walking and jogging paths, your hund will think he's died and gone to puppy heaven. There are countless things to sniff, endless muck to roll in, toys to steal, trees to pee on. And every pup, from dachshund to Dane, will love running free, with nary a chance of getting a ticket. Although summer weekends do become a bit of a free-for-all -- there's always the risk of getting home and realizing you left with someone else's Lab -- spring, fall and most mid-week days are a bit more sane.
With endless acres, three lakes and seemingly endless walking and jogging paths, your hund will think he's died and gone to puppy heaven. There are countless things to sniff, endless muck to roll in, toys to steal, trees to pee on. And every pup, from dachshund to Dane, will love running free, with nary a chance of getting a ticket. Although summer weekends do become a bit of a free-for-all -- there's always the risk of getting home and realizing you left with someone else's Lab -- spring, fall and most mid-week days are a bit more sane.


The year was 1976, and Joe Markham was working on his VW Bus. His German shepherd, Fritz, was chewing on rocks. The two had no idea that they were about to irrevocably alter the dog chew-toy world. But the moment Markham threw a chunk of the transmission to distract his dog from grinding his teeth to nubs, Fritz gave up rocks forever to chew on the dense rubber cone, which was soon dubbed Kong. More than a quarter-century later, the Golden-based Kong Company has cranked out millions of the toys, which are essentially the same VW part Fritz enjoyed in 1976. And while canines are still attracted to old-fashioned novelties such as rope bones, rawhide chews and tennis balls, Kong has found a home in the grip of Fidos and Fifis across the county.
The year was 1976, and Joe Markham was working on his VW Bus. His German shepherd, Fritz, was chewing on rocks. The two had no idea that they were about to irrevocably alter the dog chew-toy world. But the moment Markham threw a chunk of the transmission to distract his dog from grinding his teeth to nubs, Fritz gave up rocks forever to chew on the dense rubber cone, which was soon dubbed Kong. More than a quarter-century later, the Golden-based Kong Company has cranked out millions of the toys, which are essentially the same VW part Fritz enjoyed in 1976. And while canines are still attracted to old-fashioned novelties such as rope bones, rawhide chews and tennis balls, Kong has found a home in the grip of Fidos and Fifis across the county.


The 14,000-year history of the boomerang begins Down Under and continues today in Aurora with these space-age, Day-Glo toys. Handcrafted from airplane-grade birch plywood from Finland, they're the Ferraris of the boomerang industry, with style and performance that keep coming back. Boomerang fanatic/bank examiner Richard Pollock-Nelson collected 'rangs and competed in U.S. Boomerang Association-sanctioned events prior to buying Colorado Boomerangs from its Gunnison owners in 1998. Now the company, which takes the science behind the homing crescents (i.e., Newton's Third Law of Motion and Bernoulli's Law) very seriously, is the largest domestic manufacturer of high-end boomerangs in the world.

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