The Hubby had another great walk with The Doggie.
As The Doggie and I were walking this morning, he stopped to sniff at a sign post, as he often does. This particular sniff was more thorough than most, and seemed to go on forever.
Bored, and anxious about getting to work on time, I said, "Come on, that's enough."
"You can't rush this," The Doggie said sagely. "Each scent tells a tale."
"Yeah, 'Once upon a time, some dog peed here. The end.'" I gave his leash a petulant little tug.
The Doggie looked at me with the infinite patience of a dog. I looked away.
"Not just 'some dog,'" he said, as he closed his eyes and resumed sniffing the pole. "This dog is old... male. A Labrador, I think, or at least a lab mix. He was given to a child when he was a puppy. The boy loved him, but he forgot to feed him and clean up after him. His parents grew frustrated, and when the dog chewed up some shoes, they took him to the pound. He was adopted by a man who kept him chained in his yard all the time. He was fed, but otherwise he was forgotten. After two years, he was able to slip free of his leash and he ran away. He's been on his own ever since, scavenging for food and avoiding people. He's had to fight other dogs, feral cats, even coyotes. He's missing half an ear and has a bad limp. But he's smart. He knows how to keep warm in the winter and how to evade dog catchers. He's learned to be self-reliant. He's a survivor... But it's a lonely life."
"You can tell all that from the scent?" I asked.
"Yes. I sniff to know the stories of the dogs that have been here before. I'm sorry it takes so long."
I was quiet for a moment, ashamed. I rubbed away some dampness from my eye before it could form a tear.
Then The Doggie said "Welp..." and lifted his leg against the sign post.
"What are you doing?" I cried.
The Doggie gave me the dog equivalent of a shrug. "Fuck that guy. This post is mine now!"
Bored, and anxious about getting to work on time, I said, "Come on, that's enough."
"You can't rush this," The Doggie said sagely. "Each scent tells a tale."
"Yeah, 'Once upon a time, some dog peed here. The end.'" I gave his leash a petulant little tug.
The Doggie looked at me with the infinite patience of a dog. I looked away.
"Not just 'some dog,'" he said, as he closed his eyes and resumed sniffing the pole. "This dog is old... male. A Labrador, I think, or at least a lab mix. He was given to a child when he was a puppy. The boy loved him, but he forgot to feed him and clean up after him. His parents grew frustrated, and when the dog chewed up some shoes, they took him to the pound. He was adopted by a man who kept him chained in his yard all the time. He was fed, but otherwise he was forgotten. After two years, he was able to slip free of his leash and he ran away. He's been on his own ever since, scavenging for food and avoiding people. He's had to fight other dogs, feral cats, even coyotes. He's missing half an ear and has a bad limp. But he's smart. He knows how to keep warm in the winter and how to evade dog catchers. He's learned to be self-reliant. He's a survivor... But it's a lonely life."
"You can tell all that from the scent?" I asked.
"Yes. I sniff to know the stories of the dogs that have been here before. I'm sorry it takes so long."
I was quiet for a moment, ashamed. I rubbed away some dampness from my eye before it could form a tear.
Then The Doggie said "Welp..." and lifted his leg against the sign post.
"What are you doing?" I cried.
The Doggie gave me the dog equivalent of a shrug. "Fuck that guy. This post is mine now!"
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