This week, I went outside for the first time; it got cold and dark. Attempts were made during the winter to get me out of the house, but I wanted nothing to do with the cold. I am pee pad trained, and unless they start occurring in nature, I am doing my business inside like my parents.
It was a lovely day, over sixty degrees, with the sun shining. Last year, when my parents tried to walk me, I would start proudly down the road, and as soon as my house disappeared, I pulled to get back.
On this day, first, I had to put on my walking harness. That thing must have shrunk in the drawer over the winter because it didn't come anywhere near fitting I thought I would need a trip to the tailor before venturing outside, but River's big purple harness fit me perfectly. I was ready to face the world.
As we had in the fall, we began in the backyard. I walked down the back property line, sniffing what could be inhaled. We returned to the house, and I explored the rear garden and enjoyed a piece of mulch, even though I was told to leave it. No dog can do that in the spring.
Then we walked along the side lawn, and I sniffed the garden there; after that, we crossed the driveway to the front garden, where I picked up the scent of the breeze.
I followed the breeze, to my dad's surprise, and walked down the street. I didn't show any compunction to turn around, and I pulled my dad down the end of the road and around the corner.
I was walking to the row of rocks along the route. When River interviewed me for the critical position of the family dog, she told me the stones were the local post office where dogs and many other animals leave messages. I had not come near them in nine months but thought I would.
Sadly, on this day, I wouldn't either because the site maintenance man, who doesn't think he has to follow the rules and breaks more than he maintains, had left his dog outside. This was nothing new. It once charged at River, and she would never go down the street; it lived on again. The dog began barking, and I lost the scent and decided home would be the better place to be.
I may not have completed my journey, but I started it and have a whole summer to complete it and read the accumulated pee male.
I am a Big Girl Street Walker.
oh yes there is the whole summer to walk on da street
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on becoming a street walker, Ruby Rose.
ReplyDeleteLife is full of adventures, Ruby...you start them one paw at a time.
ReplyDeleteIt's just fine that you're a street walker. You made me chuckle.
ReplyDeleteHave a woof woof day and week, Ruby Rose. My best to your mom. ♥
Good job Ruby!! Best to ease in to the whole street walker business BOL
ReplyDeletexoxo,
Rosy & Sunny
Ruby, we think you did fabulously well, and will soon be qualified as a fully paid up explorer (and maybe have your own TV series).
ReplyDeleteToodle-oo!
Nobby.
I'm a street walker too, Ruby. You never know who you'll meet along the way and the smells change from day to day!
ReplyDeleteI think Heard my mom murmur that if I was a street walker I'd been a fight every minute of every hour until she brought me back inside.
ReplyDelete