<human>: About two years ago I was out and about having a night of drinks with my girlfriend. At about 1am she receives a call from her dad. I'm watching her face go from drunk and cheerful to full of terror and despair. Her dad had walked into the back yard to find both of her little dogs shredded to bits by coyotes. The rest of the night was a complete disaster, consisting of me trying to comfort her and get her to go to sleep. When we woke up in the morning, still drunk and emotional, I decided I was going to take her to a baseball game (Giants) to get her mind off of it. so we hop on the Muni, show up to the game about an hour before it is set to start. After making our way into the stadium and out towards the bleachers, I start to notice something strange. There are dogs. Everywhere. In our section. I had never seen dogs at a baseball game, except maybe the occasional help dog. We take our seats and i quickly ask a nearby fan "what's up with all the dogs today?" It was "bring your dog to the game" day, he replies. I felt awful. There I was with the girl I loved, less than 12 hours after both of her dogs were ripped to pieces, surrounded by dogs and their loving owners. I asked her if she wanted to leave and she said no. I did my best to drown her sorrow in 10 dollar beers and hot dogs.

Can you condense the text into a few key points?
<bot>: Took my girlfriend to "bring your dog to the game" day less than 12 hours after her dogs were eaten by coyotes.