Tobago

Tobago
Horizon at Sandy Point

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Walking the significant other

The usual routine: the front door squeaks open. The significant other leads the way through the house and I am released by the back door. Go, she says, go piss and run. It's still dark with no hint of light over the eastern hill. The two black ones greet me at the gate. I am torn between sniffing butt, romp-romping a bit and finding a new place to pee. So scuffle scuffle romp and then gotta run. Sometimes dew clings to my hairs and damp cools the skin. Dry season mornings are cool and fresh before the heat breaks out the sweat.
Downhill run

Inside the fence with the black one

Green hill of home

Cool tile

Two days ago, the routine changed. Yes, there's still time to romp and scuffle with the black ones, sniff where they have ranged overnight and canter down the rocky slope with no bush to tickle my butt. The light is just opening up the world and the significant one is wearing running shoes and holding out the leash. Am I this lucky? I am spinning in circles and leading the pack around the two legs. Don't knock me down, she says. And all the four legs lunge for the big gate. But I am the lucky one. She clips my collar and opens the gap just wide enough for me to slip through. It smells different on this side. And I think I am mad with wanting to run and sniff and pee this side that side back around. Take a giant leap over the big culvert. I am flying, but I can feel her pulling me back.

Don't tie me up she says. Walk she says. We are going down hill and it's hard to walk with glee to be free.  Run run run says my heart. Pace she says. Hold up Sox. Learn to walk with me.

At the bottom of the hill, the two they call Jack and Mary sit on their open yard. They never run out: some kind of electric control on their collars, poor things.

Learn to run with me says my pounding heart. My feet barely touch ground. Must pee in this patch. Must sniff that side. We are on the straight now, heading to the park. And for a few seconds we are coordinated, she's actually keeping up with me. I am allowing her to feel comfortable. Maybe I can do a bolt on the wet grass when she lengthens the leash. Ah-h-h, wet grass and smells to drive a creature crazy: little two legs and many four legs, and some strange others - like the sniffs from the high forest, wild with sharp teeth and red eyes.

Those two short scotties on the corner aren't so friendly anymore. They sit together on their pavement and snarl. And so many others behind their gates calling out and cussing me. Come ovah heyah, come ovah, they call, we go do for you! I'm up to the challenge, but she's still attached to me.

Now we are running back to the hill. Too soon - but my water bowl would be nice. And sharing the adventure with the black ones. And flopping belly down on cool tile. I will sleep a little. But tomorrow - yes, tomorrow, a little faster, a little further, a little longer...

The nose as an important sense organ!

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