Last night Tom suggested we take a bike ride after dinner.
Great idea! Ivy and I gave him our hearty and unqualified approbation.
And then we all proceeded directly into the family room to think the idea through more carefully, turning on the TV in case it had any advice to give us on the matter.
Before we knew it, there were only 20 or 30 minutes left of daylight, and rain was threatening. Oh dear, what to do?! Never fear! Ardent athletes that we are, we are accustomed to the rigors of … oh, nevermind. We went for a quick bike ride.
Poor Oliver was not happy to see us go. He looked at me with his saddest face, but such is the life of a furry friend. He had to stay behind.
So off we went, touring around our smallish neighborhood. We had been gone about 15 or 20 minutes and had wound our way into the adjoining neighborhood, when we heard the little thwap-ditty-thwap-ditty-thwap of doggy paws behind us. We looked back, and lo and behold! Oliver had found his way out of the house (through the doggy-screen on the back door wall). That little rascal!
My version of the story says that he scoured the neighborhood until he found us, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest and his legs burning with fatigue, forging onward in consummate canine devotion. Tom's version says he saw us at the end of the street as we turned and ran to catch up.
Eh. I like mine better.
Nevertheless, he found us, and, after barking his reproach at being left behind in the first place, he contentedly assumed his rightful position trotting next to my bike. Happy dog.
Happy dog, and happy me!
I'm sorry, I've tried. I've really tried to enjoy walking Oliver. I have pushed the bounds of propriety with my neighbors by walking him off-leash so he can run ahead, circle back and sniff to his heart's content. But I just find walking boring.
Actually, I enjoy walking at night more than during the day. The air is cool, and sometimes the moon and stars just take my breath away. Walking him off-leash at night is less problematic. And I can pray as I walk at night, where somehow I can't during the day. But it just doesn't seem fair to the pup to make him wait until dark to take his walk.
So, the little escape artist solved the problem! No one will be calling him fatso anymore by the end of the summer if my bike and I have anything to say about it!
And then we all proceeded directly into the family room to think the idea through more carefully, turning on the TV in case it had any advice to give us on the matter.
Before we knew it, there were only 20 or 30 minutes left of daylight, and rain was threatening. Oh dear, what to do?! Never fear! Ardent athletes that we are, we are accustomed to the rigors of … oh, nevermind. We went for a quick bike ride.
Poor Oliver was not happy to see us go. He looked at me with his saddest face, but such is the life of a furry friend. He had to stay behind.
So off we went, touring around our smallish neighborhood. We had been gone about 15 or 20 minutes and had wound our way into the adjoining neighborhood, when we heard the little thwap-ditty-thwap-ditty-thwap of doggy paws behind us. We looked back, and lo and behold! Oliver had found his way out of the house (through the doggy-screen on the back door wall). That little rascal!
My version of the story says that he scoured the neighborhood until he found us, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest and his legs burning with fatigue, forging onward in consummate canine devotion. Tom's version says he saw us at the end of the street as we turned and ran to catch up.
Eh. I like mine better.
Nevertheless, he found us, and, after barking his reproach at being left behind in the first place, he contentedly assumed his rightful position trotting next to my bike. Happy dog.
Happy dog, and happy me!
I'm sorry, I've tried. I've really tried to enjoy walking Oliver. I have pushed the bounds of propriety with my neighbors by walking him off-leash so he can run ahead, circle back and sniff to his heart's content. But I just find walking boring.
Actually, I enjoy walking at night more than during the day. The air is cool, and sometimes the moon and stars just take my breath away. Walking him off-leash at night is less problematic. And I can pray as I walk at night, where somehow I can't during the day. But it just doesn't seem fair to the pup to make him wait until dark to take his walk.
So, the little escape artist solved the problem! No one will be calling him fatso anymore by the end of the summer if my bike and I have anything to say about it!
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