Monosyllabic Pedantry

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Zachary goes to the park

(Zachary, with his Bill Clinton chewtoy)

I had a magnificent post almost completed. It was Exador's Guide to Voting and it was pure gold; however, my computer inexplicably froze up as I neared the end. I took this as a sign from the FSM* that I needed to change my thinking. So I went in search of cider. For some reason there has been no cider in any of the grocery stores all autumn. I think I've found one jug since August. Since I quit drinking, I need something to fill the void.
It was more of an excuse to take Zachary out for a drive. I haven't taken him anywhere since he hurt his leg, and he's been going bonkers. He's too stupid to take it easy and I didn't want him to hurt his leg worse when it's in a fragile phase. I thought a drive would be good although I was worried about him getting in and out of the truck.
I went to Publix and they had one jug of cider, all the way in the back, that had been crushed. Cider in hand, I went back out to the truck and Zachary was as giddy as ever. I just couldn't take him home. It was perfect dog weather. So I took him to our town square. I found a spot where the sidewalk is raised about two feet over the road. I carefully backed my truck up to allign my tailgate with the sidewalk. "Easy", I warned Zachary as I dropped the gate.

POW! He's off like a bat out of hell, completely clearing the sidewalk as he launches off the tailgate. "Zachary!" I yell, since we're in the middle of the town square. There are a few people around. Normally, he's a well behaved dog. He'll come back to me, he'll heal, sit, lie down; all the good stuff. I didn't even bother to bring the leash because he's that well behaved, usually. Tonight, he didn't even pretend to listen. I went chasing after him as he ran around, following little scent trails, then losing them and finding new ones.
Eventually, he calmed down enough to remember who I was. That's when it was all worthwhile. He ran back to me. He'd still completely lost his mind. He was jumping at me and away from me, checking into my leg and jumping up to grab my hand. The whole time, he had this attitude and look like "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!"
It was great. After that, he walked beside me, still barely able to contain his excitement. As we neared the truck to go home, he bolted 90 degrees to the right and circled the edge of the park at full run. When we reached the truck, the little bastard actually hesitated jumping in, like it scared him. Faker.
He's been following me around like I'm a God since we got home. He keeps nudging my arm as I type.
He may be limping tomorrow, but if I was him, I wouldn't want it otherwise.

*Flying Spaghetti Monster



  • There is not a thing more beautiful than a truly happy dog. Really. Not even Vin Diesel.

    Shame you don't live in Indiana. You can't trip over a dead cat without finding cider.

    By Blogger Kat Coble, at 12:04 AM  

  • Your dog posts do me in. He's so cute. And I'm totally envious that your dog has such things as "heel" and "lie down" mastered.

    By Blogger Aunt B, at 5:05 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

counter stats