Dog Day Walks
Now don’t get me wrong, Clywedog-Dog enjoys his usual perambulations, but there are times when the daily constitutional is not enough. Let me explain: the daily constitutional involves pavements and lamp posts; hedges and fences; driveways and gutters. Sometimes ‘Dog might meet another dog… there’s no guarantee.
Still there comes a time in any dog’s life when the need to walk becomes sooo much more than sniffing and walking. More than a necessity; it’s the “thing” that makes life complete… so for ease of classification and clarification, let us call it the Dog Day Walk. Us humans rarely understand these things. Cats never do. It’s a dog thing you see. But it comes and it’s an imperative. And today was that dog day at HQ.
It started with a conversation rather reminiscent of the vultures in The Jungle Book and while we humans vacillated and dithered, ‘Dog snapped out of his deep sleep and stared meaningfully at his lead.
At HQ going on such manoeuvres is never simple. Green fortunately was empty of tools, but full of duvets. Too many duvets for dog, so they were dumped back in the spare-room, which was then checked thoroughly for cats on undercover missions. ‘Dog, by this time is bouncing up and down. Van door opens and before you can say: “Jack be nimble” one old, arthritic puppy, is in the back – ginning inanely. He doesn’t mind where we are going. It could be round the block and back again for all he cares. Well probably not today. Today, is a Dog Day Walk after all.
By the time we reach our destination, ‘Dog’s in such a high state of delirium that a red setter would look sane. Green’s side door opens and
Ahh, it’s great on the other side of the door: there’s grass and sand and other people with other dogs; and the air is bracing.
These days, ‘Dog’s reached that age where if others come to pay homage: fine. If they bark: and they’re bigger – he’ll wander over; if they’re smaller and determined to play “big dog” then he looks down his nose at them.
But today the walk’s the thing! Small dogs bark in vain. Larger dogs watch him disappear in a cloud of sand. Balls fly by… and are ignored. He’s not even interested in the seagulls. And as for the small child in the electric car…
OH and I look at each other and brace ourselves for a long walk.
Strangely, after an hour or so, ‘Dog – who can’t extend his tongue any further out of his head – has had enough. Well it is a bit cold – especially when you’re nearly 12.
OH and I cut our walk short. We go back to Green and before you can say: “wasn’t that nice?” There are snores coming from the back of the van.
‘Dog rouses himself enough to get out of the van and into the lounge, but since then?