Dog people are silly

It was about a year ago that we pulled up behind an old gas-guzzler sedan at the stop light. I'm guessing the rather large and seedy guy behind the wheel was somewhere in his sixties. As we waited for the light to change a Chihuahua jumped from the front seat onto the head rest and then into the guy's lap. The driver shifted the dog to his left arm and cradled it there and began to rub noses with the dog. The dog was in ecstasy, licking the guy all over his face, and you could see his lips moving as he talked to the little dog. When the light changed he did a reasonable job of dividing his attention between the dog and the road, but you could tell by the look on the dog's face (in rapt attention on the driver) that the conversation was still going on. Joanna and I chuckled at how some people get sort of loopy about their dogs and to what ridiculous extremes they sometimes go with them. At the time we were coming back from Costco where I had encountered another sixties-something guy, this one with a little schnauzer sitting in his shopping cart. I rolled my eyes when I heard him talking to the dog, explaining things as though the pooch wanted to know the difference between saltines and club crackers, etc. I rolled them again when I saw that he had brought a towel to put in the child-seat portion of the shopping cart so the dog would be more comfortable. Some people.

Three or four months later we adopted Elky & Tassel. Fast forward six more months. I was sitting at the very same traffic light, and realized that I was explaining to Elky where we were going next on our errands (Home Depot). She was looking at me with this rapt expression on her face and when I leaned down to her, she licked me all over my face. When the light turned green, I pulled her up next to me so she could stand on my right leg and see out the windshield (well, if it were possible to see around all the 'nose art' she had deposited there), then I proceeded to Home Depot, having done a reasonable job of dividing my attention between dog and road, where I studied the various kinds of shopping carts to decide which one would be most suitable for wheeling my two dogs around while I looked for plumbing parts and paint. The two dogs looked back and forth from me to the merchandise and other shoppers. I am fairly sure I detected some eye rolling on a couple of them. I suppose it is a common reaction to seeing a seedy-looking, sixties-something guy, crooning away to his dogs and wheeling them around the store in a shopping cart. Some people.

On the way home I found myself wondering if anyone would mind if I brought the girls into the library. I was only planning to be in there for 10 or 15 minutes....

Happy Birthday, Tass!

Please join me in wishing Tassel a very happy 9th birthday! If you shared your mornings with us you'd recognize Tassel as the goofy red and white girl who starts all the rowdy games with her side-ways dance and "helicopter" tail action. Yep, and she's the one who quickly finishes her morning relief break and then runs back to me for a skritch while Elky studiously sniffs the weeds at roadside for evidence of overnight visitors. Now, for the brag:

A couple of days ago I opened the front door and stepped out on the porch to let the girls have their morning potty break. I'd been getting sloppy about the leash (we live at the end of a dirt road in rural area where there is very little traffic) and just as I looked up to notice a man taking his large boxer for a walk in the road, the girls spotted same and took off at a dead run, barking their heads off. Man and dog stopped suddenly (his dog was on leash), anxious at what these two crazy muscle bullets had in mind. I shouted "no" and called Tassel and Elky to come. By this time the dogs were more than 2/3 of the way to their target and visions of lawsuits were dancing in my head when, lo and behold, both dogs slowed, turned, stopped, and looked back at me! I called them to me again and Tassel immediately trotted back, happy as a clam. Elky followed, looking back over her shoulder and muttering at the boxer, no doubt saying, "You are one lucky dog, mate." Red faced, I apologized to man and boxer alike, sent a silent thank-you heavenward, and stood there astonished, praising the dogs as they stood at my feet waiting for me to clip on the leashes. (Note to self: from here on out, attach leashes before opening the door.)

I've had dogs over the years, but I have NEVER had dogs who would, on command, break off from flat-out, hard running pursuit of the temptation of the moment, and come to me. Am I not blessed to share in the lives of these two miracles?

Dog noises: When Tass is tired of waiting for me to finish my coffee and serve up the kibble, she flops on the floor nearby giving a loud and laughable sigh/grunt that is equal parts world-weariness and exasperation. What a character!