Saturday, September 1, 2012

Hitchin’ a Ride on Easy Street


High Five!
Zippity DoDog is a riot. The girl has never known a stranger and is loved by many. A hound dog with a sense of humor that can sometimes be exasperating – well, it doesn’t get much better than that. So today . . .


I drive seven dogs to a dirt road called Easy Street where there are only a few houses, little traffic and lots of open space. The intent is to have a long hike to wear them out because a tired dog is a good dog. We cram ourselves into a white VW Beetle called VeVe. The group includes Forty West and Lady, the Labs; Bear and Mikke, the Old English Sheeps; RockDog, and BunBun Roush, the Spaniels; and DoDog. The car is rockin’ to and fro with excitement on our short ride to Easy Street. I finally stop, sling open my door as they fly over my lap into the open space. It’s always a race to see who can get out of VeVe first. 

The dogs walk, run, sniff butts, hike legs, and chase each other through the trees, into the bushes and over the hill. By Homer standards it’s a really warm day so they find a muddy stream right away to drink and get their paws wet. The labs lay down in the mud to cool their bellies. After a mile or so they all begin to slow down so we turn around and head back to the car. Zippy has chased Forty and she has chased Lady using mucho energy. When she runs she also barks with that deep hound dog voice. Her stubby little legs are low to the ground so she has to run twice as hard just to keep up. On the way back she is draggin’ her ass way behind the rest of us, doing the DoDog shuffle as she pretends to sniff the ground but we all know she is merely taking a breather.

Halfway back I turn around and see three cars coming toward us, slowing down because of all the dogs, finally coming to a complete stop in the middle of the road. I yell to the drivers: “keep moving, they will get out of your way,” as I continue walking and calling the dogs toward me. I round a corner and they all come running except for Zippy. Did I mention how stubborn she can be about doing what she wants, when she wants to do it?

The rest of us wait on the side of the road to let the cars pass. The first two are loaded with people ooohhing and aaaahing about the dogs. “Are all these YOUR dogs,” and “Boy, do you have YOUR hands full,” were some of the comments made as they passed us at a snail’s pace. Where is the third car I wonder, as we stand waiting in the sun? I finally see it rounding the bend with what looks like, oh but it is, a Basset Hound in the driver’s seat! What the hell?

As the car approaches, we see Zippy on the lap of a small woman, looking over the steering wheel and I swear she is smiling. They totally pass us by before the car stops and the door opens. DoDog jumps down and runs over to the pack with a smirk on her face, seriously. I figure she took at least a half-mile off her walk by getting in that car. The driver was apparently in awe. I apologize for the inconvenience but there was no need. The woman drove off laughing, waving at Zippy oblivious to the rest of us.

Snoozing on VeVe's dash on the ride home

We make it back to VeVe and all is quiet on the ride home. The dogs crawl slowly out of the car and onto the deck for a drink of water out of the swimming pool, and a nap in the sun. DoDog is totally spent. She sleeps the longest and snores the loudest twitching her legs ever so often. I wonder if she is dreaming of chasing labs through the bushes, or if hitchin’ a ride on Easy Street just wore her out? I can’t imagine how she got the lady to stop her car and open the door? Most likely she stood in the middle of the road refusing to move. That would be just like a DoDog. 

Spent
Woof! Woof!  

2 comments:

  1. K~~
    What a wonderful story....I just want to hug Zippity Do Dog!! I love your patience/understanding & respect of all animals.

    Christa

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ya gotta wonder if Zippity do-dog plan was to get the stranger to drop him off at VeVe's parking place. Funny pooch.
    Gotta love it....
    Cindy

    ReplyDelete