I've been back on my seriously walk the dogs very regularly routine (I've also taken up the hideous self torture of jogging, but I do that sans dogs--the last thing I need is to be gasping down the pavement with a dog who spots a deer or something). I'm not sure exactly how far my walk is, although it is laps around my 12 acre property, which is not quite square, since our neighbor's place takes a little bite out of one corner, and we come in and around the woods instead of edging the woods on the outside. It has rolling hills, though, as I live on a mountain. The spouse says it is about a mile, give or take a little.
The dogs think this whole walking thing is really fab. When they think it might be close to walking time, they start freaking out whenever I go into the computer room, since the leashes live there. And if I start putting on warm clothes, look out. Cassie the Pyr bitch starts nosing the doorknob, Mic the Berner boy barks stridently and launches around like a loose cannon, Lliira the Pyr girl cries, and Nessie the Newfie tries to herd me into the leash zone. I do three laps with Mic and Lliira, then swap and do three with Cassie and Nessie. This morning, after Mic and Lliira's laps, I was swapping the collars and leashes with Nessie and Cassie. Both have been working on manners with this walking thing, so I make them sit and wait while I open the door, and then sit and wait on the other side while I close the inner door. They were very good this morning, BUT Mic (followed by Lliira) was NOT. I have the girls half way through the door when this black tri colored bullet crashes between me and Cassie, putting me on my butt. A white streak followed suit. Great. Now I am trying to get Nessie and Cassie back in the house, so I am wrestling 250 lbs of "we wanna go for our completely Lliira is completely out of sight, totally gone. Mic is racing laps in the front yard and up and down the drive. Cussing up a streak, I manage to drag Ness and Cass in the house and unclip the flexi's. I grab a six foot leather leash, run the clip through the hand loop to make a fast collar, and zoom out the door to catch Mr. I'm-So-Hot and look for Lliira the Invisible Pyr. Mic was playing keep away, so I flopping in the snow to entice him over and snagged him with my leash lasso. I brought him in the house, turned him loose, and bolted back out to look for Lliira. I headed down the drive, calling and thinking about missing dinner at the in-laws because I spent the day hiking through the over 300 acres of woods our back of the property neighbors own (which they do not allow us to walk on, and they have been known to shoot deer out of season and I've had a cat shot, too). As I was passing the barn and shed, I heard this little click click of toenails. Lliira had gone into the tack shed to eat catfood! She had a cat in there, who probably ran from her and led her into the cat food buffet in the first place. Whoo! What a relief. Since she was pretty cornered in the building, she trotted right up to me to be caught and returned to the house. Mic was banished to the crate and maintained in jail by the spouse, and Lliira shut in the office. I then gathered up Nessie and Cassie for the second half of my morning dog walk. Managing four big enthusiastic dogs can be a trick. Mr. Micawber would be wise not to try and pull that particular fast one again any time soon . . . Eileen Morgan The Mare's Nest http://www.enter.net/~edlehman --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.419 / Virus Database: 235 - Release Date: 11/13/2002
