A Couple of Dog Tales

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Got a couple of dog tales for you. Both occurred last Sunday.

As usual, I awoke early and took Sam for our walk. Sam, our poodle/cocker spaniel mix (that’s our theory; he’s a stray), is not the sharpest knife in the drawer. But he knows a few things, such as when I put on my tennis shoes in the morning, fine things are about to occur. That dog loves to walk.

We took the usual route in the neighborhood, enjoying possibly one of the last cold mornings of spring. Our route takes us to a street on which our backyard neighbors live. All was quiet, save the birds. Then out of the backyard that directly adjoins ours galloped a sleek, muscled, large and extremely energetic black Labrador retriever. A puppy, but a rather large one, and a boy at that. He was beautiful, and I was happy to see him — and happier that he was not my dog. Labrador puppies take a lot of work to get them controllable, and even then their energy is practically boundless.

I told Buddy — as I named him in my head — to get back in his yard. You can guess how that went. Buddy wanted to play with Sam, who is always up for canine companionship. Then Buddy wanted to chase birds minding their own business in the next yard. Then he spied a cat who wisely fled up and over a fence, safely out of reach. I kept walking, hoping Buddy would give up and go home, but it was indeed a fine day for a walk in the neighborhood. So off we went, Buddy exploring and even flushing a pair of rabbits at one point, who easily outran the gangly puppy.

We walked three miles together. Sam was on his leash and doubtless envious of Buddy’s freedom. Finally, I took Buddy back to his yard, and tried to go home only with the dog I came with, but to no avail. So I took Buddy to my house and put him on a leash. Buddy did his level best to wrench my arm out of its socket, but I have been working out in the gym, which likely saved me a dislocation. I was dragged all the way to Buddy’s house, where I put him in the backyard and closed the gate.

You can see into our neighbor’s backyard from our second story, which is where my Beautiful Mystery Companion was sipping coffee. She looked up and thought, “That looks like my husband down there with a big black dog.”

Here’s the tricky part. I was not positive that Buddy belonged here. I just knew he did not belong to me. And he was not wearing tags. So I made an educated guess, hoping my neighbor would not wake up to find he now owned a rather large animal.

I went home and told my BMC, who affirmed it was our neighbor’s dog. After I stuck Buddy in the backyard, she said he loped to the French doors, jumped up, opened the door and went inside. Smart dog.

Unless my neighbor reads this, he will never know about Buddy’s adventure.

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Later that afternoon, we enjoyed a pleasant lunch out on the deck and let Rosie — the smart dog — come outside with us. Sam has to be on a leash, but Rosie is usually content to lie next to us on the deck.

Apparently we forgot to bring her inside. A few hours later, while both my BMC and I were out running around, a couple rang the doorbell. Daughter Abbie was wisely unwilling to answer since we were not home. So she peeked out an upstairs window and saw the couple holding Rosie in her arms. She opened the door, affirmed it was Rosie and thanked the couple. They said they lived up the hill and down another street.

Another good deed done in return for my dog deed earlier in the day — paying it forward, as it were. But here’s the interesting part. Rosie was not wearing her collar, so the couple had no idea where she lived or who to contact. They told Abbie that Rosie led them to our house, and jumped up on the front door as if to say, “Ring the doorbell so they can let me back in!”

Now that is a clever dog, even if she is too short to reach the knob herself.

So those are my dog tales for today.

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