Honestly, most of my best blog ideas come when I’m walking the dogs. It’s either because my brain is free of all encumbrances, or the dogs do something that creates an idea for a post.
In this case, it was the dogs, specifically Delilah, that this post is about.
It’s on the internet so it MUST be true.
If I’m being truthful, I have to tell you I’ve come to enjoy our morning walks more than the afternoon walks. Typically it is just me and the dogs, although occasionally we do run into others, (more about one encounter on Thursday) but in general our morning walks are fairly uneventful, unless it’s something my dogs are doing, in this case it was Delilah.
Our weekday walks are timed, which means I set a timer on my phone for 12 minutes and when the timer goes off, depending upon which route we are on, we turn around and head home.
There is one house we walk past with a small dog that loves to bark. This dog starts barking from about two houses away. In the afternoons the dog is often outside on the deck out back, while in the mornings the dog is in one of the front windows, barking its fool head off.
So last Friday we head out on our walk. Just before we reach the house with the barking dog, Delilah stops to poop. As I wait for her to finish her business I look up to the house ahead and see the dog, face smashed against the screen, barking to beat the band.
The couple who live with this dog are older, I figure they either don’t sleep in the same room as the dog, have their hearing aids turned off or have mastered the art of REM sleep, (maybe all of the above) because at no time during this barking process does anyone try and shush the dog or peer out the window to see what the hell this dog is barking at.
I pick up Delilah’s gift to the world and we walk about 20 feet closer. Now we are in front of the house with the barking dog and Delilah apparently has not finished creating God’s work. She squats again, directly in the dog’s line of vision.
She drops a few more Lincoln logs and then (as can only happen with dogs that eat grass), she walks very slowly in a squatting position trying to dislodge something, either real or imaginary from her bum. I cannot see what is bothering her because I’m busy picking up her poop sculpture.
It was at this most inopportune moment that the timer went off. I’m bent over picking up poop, the barking dog is mashing its face against the window screen, Delilah’s doing walking squats and Deliverance is playing on my phone.
I shut the timer off as quickly as I can, and reach into my pouch for a clean bag so I can investigate Delilah’s bum and help a puppy out.
As I’m working on this, Delilah decides enough is enough, she goes for the old tried and true method of dragging her ass, except she’s no longer in the grass, she’s scraping across the driveway.
Whatever is bothering her isn’t coming off, so she sits down, int he road and tends to the issue herself.
That’s just how we roll in the ‘hood.
Thankfully none of this is caught on tape.
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