Not the Primrose Path

On nice days I walk the howling beagles for several miles. We all enjoy it. I have been using the same beginning of the route for years, just sometimes extending the distance.

We know all the dogs in the subdivision, or so I thought. We set off today down the street, watching for the black lab that is on an invisible fence and causes Baby to howl for several houses. Sure enough, there she was, outside frolicking in the front yard. Baby started getting loud. Molly was joining in the chorus; I began laughing, and we crossed to the other side of the street. I hadn't done that before, but I thought it might help.

I was wrong. It seems that the dog across the street from the lab, that is usually inside the house howling when we walk by, was outside loose. He charged down the driveway growling and trying to look menacing. It isn't easy to look menacing when you are all white, about 35-45 lbs, and have a full, curly tail. But he tried. That left me between a busy, jumping lab and a medium-sized menace. Walking backwards, I dragged my very noisy dogs along, encouraging the curly-tailed dog to go home before he got lost or run over. He followed us for several houses, my dragging the bouncing beagles, the Spitz mix growling, the lab barking....not much fun for me.

We managed to get around the next corner, and luckily the large dog there was inside. The owners seem to think their beast is a lab mix, but it is a pit bull mix. The dog has a nasty growl and tends to charge at my little beagles when given the chance. That dog is going to injure someone badly some day. Usually they tie it up outside or keep it in, but sometimes they have it just sitting outside loose with them. It scares the crap out of me and I love dogs.

Baby must have been stressed by the commotion and excitement, because once we got around the corner from the pit bull house she pulled her back feet to her front feet and dropped a large load for me. I don't get how she can do this; I don't feed her that much food in a day, let alone at one meal. Of course I carry little baggies and I scooped it up and carried it the rest of the trip. For some reason she always drops a turd then walks a few steps, drops another....I end up having to scoop along several feet of sidewalk, trying to get it all.

After that, we ran into a mother with two little kids. The girl had gone ahead a half block, and the mother was yelling at her to wait until the dogs went by. I wondered if she thought my suck-up beagles were a threat to her children. They love kids. Then I heard her say that the dogs were cute, but the son was allergic. We hurried by so the mother could get back together with both of her children. By this time I decided to cut our walk down to a mile or maybe two.

I changed the route I had been using most of the summer and took a short cut. Molly, being the bottom feeder she is, found a half of a dried up peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole wheat. She scooped that sucker up before I could jerk her leash. I stuck my fingers in her mouth trying to dislodge the sandwich, but no luck. I ended up with peanut butter on my fingers and a dog scarfing food down so fast I thought I was going to gag. In an attempt to jerk her around a little to dislodge the nasty food, I managed to brush up against my breast and leave a peanut butter smear. Great. Poop bag, brown stuff on my fingers and on my shirt. Just charmingly lovely. She swallowed the rest of the ancient sandwich and smiled at me. I considered wiping my hand on her fur.

It should have ended there. I felt I had suffered enough indignities. But no. I had to dig into the pocket of my white slacks to get the house key out. Of course I had to use the dirty hand because I had the dogs in the other hand and I didn't want to smear peanut butter on the leashes.

We may skip the walk tomorrow. It might rain. Yeah, that is what I told them. Rain. They don't like to get their little feet wet.