Today is a good day; I got to spend it in one of my favorite places. I have three favorite places in the world. One is the road that goes to the hill in the town that I live. I love it because it leads to a great destination, the LDS Temple there. The more I go up that hill, the more I love it. I haven't yet made it to Scotland (crossing my fingers for this fall), but that counts as a favorite place as well. And the third place is the abandoned subdivision that is behind my house. It was set up a long time ago, ready for houses to be built, but nothing ever came of it. So it's basically just some nice roads and fire hydrants set up along a huge patch of weeds and dirt- the perfect place for an adventure! And who better to go on an adventure with than my two favorite people. Did I say people? Well, they're not
actually people, ok, they're my dogs; two black lab/border collie mixes, both strays, and both essentially mutts. We go on walks whenever I can find the time (which, unfortunately, is not often enough), and let me tell you, our walks
are adventures. Worthing is my male dog, and his motto is "dignity... always dignity" (that is, until he gets in his puppy mode, and then dignity is tossed to the breeze). He goes on walks with me as a matter of principal. We stoically walk at a steady pace, stopping only to sniff questionable snowbanks and rocks. He heels on command, runs when I tell him to, and is quite amiable and obedient. I like walking with him because he understands me. We both go home contented and happy. Gwendolyn, my girl dog (I will take a moment to mention that while I do like Oscar Wilde to a point, I was not the one who named either dog), is quite the opposite. Worthing is a person, but Gwen is delightfully D.O.G. She goes on walks with me purely because she enjoys our spending time together. She squeals with happiness when you put the leash around her, and weeps bitterly when you go on a walk without her. Everything is an adventure for Gwen.We walk on the road for as long as she can stand it, and then she gives in and plunges into the weeds. There we catch grasshoppers together, scare birds, and just do wonderful doggy things. Occasionally she just pauses, looks up at me, and gives this heart melting face that clearly says, "Isn't this fun? Aren't you glad we came here?". On especially good days, we go hunting for the demon voles that live in droves deep underground. Her hip-swinging, tail wagging walk suddenly changes, and she tiptoes quietly to a patch of dirt. She'll stare at that for a minute, and then suddenly she begins tearing at the ground, her eyes wide in this frenzied "I-found-him-I-found-him-oh-joy!" face. Usually it only takes a few seconds for her to dig a nicely-sized hole (and cover unsuspecting me with large clods of dirt), in which she promptly smooshes her entire face into. She sniffs deeply for a moment, then begins going at it again. This proceeds until she's finished that hole, and goes on to make another. I used to think this was a pretty cute game we played, until one day she pulled a monster vole out of the hole by its tail. She threw it up in the air, caught it, broke it's neck, rolled on it, and then happily offered it to me. The game lost it's appeal for me that day, but considering how rare it is for her to actually catch a vole, I decided to allow her to continue. I figure whoever owns the old subdivision won't care, mostly because it's covered with old holes and four-wheeler tracks anyway, but also
 |
| (Puppy Mode) |
because we're doing them a favor- catching the nasty things that burrow under foundations of houses. Gwen and I have spent many a happy afternoon saving the world from the evil that lies underneath.
After walking my dogs, occasionally I come to the realization that I have a better time with them than I do with most humans. Maybe that's why I have no life... but oh well. It's worth it to see their little ears pop up when they hear the word "walk".
