Took the dogs for a very short walk this morning. Man, they are climbing the walls with cabin fever. This weather is ridiculous. Hey, whatdya want? It’s February in New England! It was ok enough to walk for a few minutes.
I tried to get them to walk about the back yard — no go. They both stood at the top of the stairs on the deck and just looked at me as if to say, “Are you nuts, lady? We want a walk!”
My trusty kennel leads in my jacket pockets, I went back into the house, and brought the dogs out the front door for a stroll up the lane. Hector, loose, brought “Toy” with him (pictured above) and bounded down the steps. At the end of the driveway, he stopped, “Toy” in mouth, did a classic “point” stance, and ran up the road like a car in a drag race, dropped Toy partway down the lane, and started sniffing like the hound he is.
Hobie, wearing a blue kennel lead, and me, walking calmly behind the hound. The kennel lead had looped over Hobie’s ear, so that his ear was being flattened under the collar part of the lead. Wearing big overstuffed gloves, it’s not easy to put a leash on a dog. I fixed his ear, and moved on.
They sniffed and peed on everything in sight, and we went up to the cottage for a look around. The plow guy had piled the snow so high, the three of us couldn’t safely approach the door. I will have to shovel there later.
Across from the cottage is where a new dog, Riley, lives. Hobie met Riley on a walk a few weeks ago, when Hector was recuperating from his foot injury. They smelled Riley today before they saw him.
I had picked up Hector’s toy, which he had once again abandoned in favor of sniffing. I spotted Riley up by his house. Hobie spotted him visually next, and then Hector spied Riley.
In true Cesar Millan style, I used no words. I made Hobie follow me. Hector bolted, at first, towards Riley. Riley stood like a soldier, but ears forward and wagging his tail, very much the calm and assertive, yet friendly, dog. Riley made no sounds. Very interesting. He is a silent dog. Hector slowed, and they greeted. Then they play-bowed and started romping together in the snow. I called Hector’s name a couple of times, but not showing any upset or panic. I kept walking, Toy in hand, Hobie in the other, towards home.
Once we got closer to our house, Hector said his goodbyes to Riley, and followed us home. We walked a few more minutes, abandoning Toy at various intervals, me picking Toy up and enticing Hector with it: “Got your toy!! I’ve got Toy! Where’s Toy?”
Hobie’s feet started to bother him from the cold, and that was the signal to head indoors and have breakfast.
