Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Dog Walk Diaries
I have decided, that in the interest of getting at least some exercise, I really must walk my dogs. When we lived on the river, the dogs were able to run freely, swimming and retrieving logs from the water. There was no need for leads, nor were there wild, rabid looking canines, launching themselves at their gates, frantic to escape and eat any passerby unlucky enough to be caught.
Suburbia presents a whole new set of rules.It means, if we want to go anywhere, the dogs need to be on a lead. Nothing unusual about that, apart from the fact that they really don't see the point... and I sure as hell can't walk all three of them simultaneously, because I'd end up with a broken neck.
The last time I tried walking the intrepid trio, Velvette, the Lab, stopped dead in front of me. Which would have been fine, had I not been staring into space. My shins connected with the dog, who is solid, and my upper body just kept going. I baled over the top of her, onto the hot December tar - both hands being occupied by leads, I had nothing to break my fall. Chin first, I landed in a tangle of leads, cold, wet noses inquiring as to this new game - where mom struggles to get to her feet without letting anyone go.
Injuries included: tar embedded-chin, bruised elbow, scraped shoulder, tar embedded knee. I cursed that dog, who stared up into my face with her sweet, enquiring smile!
SO, now I've decided, in the interests of my stiffening anatomy, each dog will be walked on its own, in around our neigbourhood. Oh god, what a potential nightmare. Jo goes beserk, grabs the lead in his mouth and yodels like a banshee. He certainly does NOT behave like he has EVER been exposed to TTouch. Velvette pulls like a train and it sounds like shes being strangled. You'd be forgiven for thinking she's never gone to dog training.
So, I set off, being towed by Jo. We came barreling around a corner, Jo about to leap out of his skin in response to the enraged boer boels trying to eat him through their gate; when a car stops alongside us, the door next to the dog opens and a man gets out, the bloody dog tried to jump into the car! Fortunately he's quite a light weight, so I could pull him off. Mumbling an a apology under my breath, we carried on don the road.
The following day Velvette does THE SAME THING! I kid you not. Except this time, the guy who gets out of his car is all smiles. He comes over to greet the dog, and not wanting to be rude, I smile (apologetically) and try to stop Velvetter from jumping up - but alas, she has no manners. She launches herself at the guy, and nails him IN THE GROIN!! I see this, I'm eye level with his waist, trying to encourage my errant hound to SIT. Yeah right. He's folded over at the waist and smiling politely, tells us to enjoy our walk. I drag the dog unwillingly away. I refrain from looking back to see if he's walking upright.
I'm determined to eventually have dogs who are well behaved on the lead, and who don't bat an eyelid at their lunatic, barking counterparts.
What are the chances?
Labels: Colleen's Diary