It had been a long time since the DH and I took the puppies for a walk, so we decided, today was the day.
Bear in mind that the 'puppies' are all adult: two Great Pyrenees crosses and a little herding dog. All together they probably weigh 250 pounds.
So we get our leashes and go outside. Instant excitement. Walkies! The sea of unconditional love froths into a storm and we're surrounded by wagging tails and a yipping, chirping, squeaky little thing running between and under the big dogs. I have no idea how we go the leashes on them, but somehow we did, and out to the 'dirty' car we go.
This car, a Nissan Sentra, is the walkies car and is already lined throughout the interior with white dog hair.
We open the doors and in they pile. The DH and I manage to get in before they invade the front area, shut the door, and buckle up. The scent of dirty dog is immediately overpowering. "We gotta get them to the groomers sometime," I choked as we rolled all the windows down a safe 6" each.
My DH is driving, so I'm the 'arm bar'. I'm fending drooling, excited dogs as we make our way down the hill. None of them are used to being in a car, since we usually walk them up the road from our house, so this is big fun. They're rocking and skidding around in the back and I worry about the big dogs' hips as we negotiate the steep S bends on the hill. But at last we make it to the park. Normally we try to hang on to the leashes so they don't bolt, but this is unmitigated as opposed to mitigated chaos, so we just open the doors and they pour out. I snag two dog leashes and my DH grabs the third. And then I realize we forgot the plastic bags.
My DH hands me the third leash briefly while he forages through the car for plastic bags. In about five seconds I'm at the center of a cat's cradle weaving of dog. The Finn and Chase immediately wind themselves around the nearest posts (two separate ones) and Brian criss-crosses the others.
"Hey, that's pretty kewl," my DH remarks when he gets back to us. "How did you do that? It's doing a great job of keeping them under control."
"Um, yeah, they did that."
It takes a while to get organized, but eventually we hit the trail and cruise around the park. Brian, the big bum of the group, quickly tires. No surprise there, but the little herding dog, Chase, who runs endlessly after cars along the fence line all day long, wears out too and starts heeling like a champ.
We explore a while, cross the dreaded hole-y grate where Chase slinks around so low her belly almost touches the ground and tucks her ears and tail while running around on it trying to escape the evil, and then we head back to the car.
The dogs are all exhausted and just lay there. No arm barring needed. We take them home, they run in through the gate, and we're all good.
"We gotta do this again," I told my DH, but it's going to be a while. I'm serious about the groomer. Gross gross gross. In the house they're fine, but in the confines of the car, not so much. And yet ... so much fun. The chaos was part of the fun. Walking was fun. Spending time with the dogs and my DH was amazing. Such a simple thing, stuff most people think nothing of. Simple pleasures of life, the cliche' goes. I think it's a cliche' for a reason. It's too true to let go of, no matter how corny it sounds.
My tweets - - *Mon, 14:56*: an interesting take on the all-white-male photos = it's on purpose https://t.co/enHRH8UBuc - *Mon, 17:55*: Whaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?...
10 hours ago