Mom tries earnestly, every day, to get me to a place where I can spend some time untethered. Her eagle eyes are also always on the lookout for a long, lonely road she can bike down while I run unencumbered by her.
My role is three-fold:
1. Ignore any 2-leggeds we may stumble across.
2. Come to an abrupt skidding stop, reverse directions & be back by Mom’s side in a nanosecond after she calls or beeps me.
3. I’m to never be out of sight of My Mama’s keen all-seeing peepers.
There are soo many aspects wrong with this system; I would have to labor a month dictating long wordy blogs to cover them all. Dear reader, I won’t do that to you; instead, I’ll briefly tell you why it’s a bunch of hooey.
- I love people; I want to say “Hi,” it’s in my nature to lick what I love.
- Really!? What if I’m knee-deep in the most stupendous yuck of my life? What if I’m squirrel or rabbit chasing?
- How can I be in charge of where my Mom decides to play looky-see?
I believe it will soon be evident to all that I need many more treats to be compliant in my role.
2 days ago with the warmth of the sun on our backs, we head out to explore. Right away issues pop up. Mom has read all the numerous notices that say “Keep all pets on a leach”. To get from our campsite to where Mom thinks I can run are other campers, many other campers, so sneaking me & my inquisitive nose by all those people is impossible.
Mom has never run me alongside her e-bike while I’m tethered to it, yet she thinks this is a good time to try something completely foreign to me & yes, she did consider & was prepared for blood splatter. Hers not, mine.
We start out & of course, the 1st thing I want to do is get away from the bike. My pull on Mom’s handlebars makes her swear & swerve at the same time. The old broad did manage to stay upright so I gotta give her props for that.
After much fretting on my part & Mom’s white-knuckled handlebar grip, we made it through the campground & found the most wonderful sandy beach. As you see I’m washing off the fatigue & distress of doing something I wasn’t trained for.
Not a soul insight lent Mom to believe she could meditate on the warm, welcoming beach. That thought went up in flames when Mom saw my ears go up & body flew outa the lake. Looking behind her, she found the object of my immense interest—an old man astride his bike.
Mom starts yelling at me like I’m deaf. She is loud & with animation, lots of animation while hitting the ringer on my collar. I got a few good sniffs in before Mom hit the collar vibrate button. Vibration snaps my attention back to Mom. I left the man-bike guy to sit docile at Mom’s side. I’m such a good boy.
The bike-man wasn’t offended & he & Mom had a grand old chat while my nose led me to investigate the nooks & crannies of the area.
After the bike-man episode, My Mama lost all desire to meditate on the beach, so we headed down the road for an untethered run. Everything was going according to plan until Mom came up with a new idea. Instead of running in front of her to keep tabs on me, why not have me run after her. When I’m in front of Mom, I wonder all over; when I’m behind her, I focus on catching up so no wandering.
Mom was feeling pleased with herself until she looked in the rearview & I wasn’t in the mirror. She yelled for me to come, she rang the bike bell & finally stopped riding when she didn’t see my hide nor hair.
That’s when she got serious, started hitting the vibrate button & then the nasty shock button. The shock is low, but I do not like it one bit. Still, I did not magically appear.
After about 3 minutes of Mom worrying, I came bounding around the corner, a smile on my face, tongue hanging out, ready to keep on go’n down the road. Ya, my Mother was having none of that. I was tethered so quick to her bike my head spun.
With all the recent exercise, I was pooped. It was easy for me to run passively alongside Mom back to camp, where I loaded up on water & crashed on my doggy bed for a couple of hours of slumber. Mom started to make lunch. That’s when the beautiful day turned ug-ly.
A lawman showed up in a big white Park Police truck.
Did that man of the law, dressed in green stop by to encourage Mom to have a blessed day? Did he want to compliment Mom on her cute camper or wonderful dog? No & No. Some rat fink tattled to the copper that I was running loose as a goose in the state park where there is signage everywhere saying it’s a mortal sin.
Mom tried the “He is on a leach, it’s an electric one.” The officer’s response was, “How’s that working for you?” The excuse fell flat cuz all 3 of us knew I was being an unseen rascal for several minutes while wearing my electric leach.
Then Mom tried the “He’s a nice, well-mannered dog” as I chose that moment to jump my full length onto the friendly Gumshoe’s green shirt.
The Po-Po wasn’t impressed, so Mom finally gave it up, apologized & the Smokey left.
I wish Mr. Detective had stayed. The minute he was outa sight, Mom chewed my butt up one side & down the other. I haven’t been off leash for 1 second since. I knew I really blew it when Mom was still tight-fisting her anger a day & ½ later. I even had to poop while Mom stood right next to me. How humiliating.
My next blog will explain all the ways I’ve tried to make up for my blunder.
Stay safe out there,