Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Yes, we're still going to the dog park

LADY SHOWS OFF FOR THE CAMERA
It may seem that Lady and I are no longer going to the dog park, since I haven't posted in awhile. Not true. We haven't gone the last two days, though; it's cold and has been raining.

 One day, for instance, we encountered Simba the schnauzer on the little-dog side and Shasta and Nakia, the stereophonic huskies, on the big-dog side. There was also a great dane named Elvis, plus a chihuahua and another schnauzer.

 On the same day, Lady tried to run with a black dog on the big-dog side. She didn't do much, but she tried.

 The next day, Nov. 6, Lady just puttered around and I read a book (Dick Francis) until a guy showed up in a truck. After that, I was busy talking to the man, and Lady was busy avoiding the dog's advances (don't they know she's fixed?).

 On Sunday, Nov. 16, we were at the dog park, and a fire alarm went off. The funny thing was that a dog barked just before it went off, and it sounded like the dog tripped the alarm. It lasted so long that I considered leaving. It finally quit, though, and all was well.

 Note: Lady passed on Sept. 17, 2016.

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Thursday, October 16, 2014

Peewee and the crescent of dogs

A GENERIC BLOODHOUND

I don't know if this happened when I was a teenager or a young man. I'd take walks around the neighborhood in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, and sometimes I'd range farther up on the ridge.

Dogs from the neighborhood often followed me, formed a pack around me and walked along, and that's the way it was that day. We were on the ridge, and this biting dog had found us.

The biting dog was at least part German shepherd, and he was way bigger than any of the dogs in "my" pack. The biggest dog and best fighter of my pack was Peewee, a sweet and skinny bloodhound. Peewee had guile and was a terrific fighter, but fortunately he didn't have to fight that day.

I didn't realize what was happening, but that pack of dogs slowly formed a scraggly crescent formation in front of me, with Peewee in the middle. One by one, they wobbled into place. I later realized that they were ready to protect me.

 The shepherd looked at them for a few seconds, then sat down. He looked around, uncertain what to do. After a standoff for a couple of minutes, the offender trotted off. Strangely (and happily), I never saw him again.

We finished our walk unimpeded.

P.S.: You may find the blog entry on Old Joe on this blog. The Bryant family had owned Old Joe, and they later owned Peewee, too.

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