Taking a couple Huskies out for a walk always leads to some kind of adventure. Not all walks are sailing down a road or a trail enjoying nature and the tug of the dogs to whatever you hooked them to.
In this particular case, it was a foot walk, and they were attached to me. They had on their harness for the bike, and of course, I don’t roll as fast as they would like. So, I have a leash loop around each wrist, and I am being drug down the road because I trained them that way.
The heel is a word I’ve never used or tried to train into them. To me, that would be like leaving a Corvette in 1st gear all the time, and I don’t want them to get into the habit of lollygagging when it’s time to run. I know many have trained for both, but I guess I like to get the work out of holding back two charging Huskies with just muscle. It’s a form of a workout that will tax you like the tortures the trainers at the gym invent.
Anyway, back to the walk. It was a short one of about a mile due to the high temps and humidity. I’m bebopping along enjoying the fact that we’d gone almost the whole route without an unleashed dog to jump into my 2 dog pack and create untold chaos that leaves me more stressed than work.
We are walking along (Being drug actually) and Nikki stops to investigate a bush. Fair enough because I’ve noticed that on walks she likes to pee on something every 10 yards. Funny she doesn’t feel this need when we are rolling on the trike but who am I to dictate the call of nature?
Nikki squats down on her belly under the bush and makes a limbo move to get lower. All I can see is fluffy butt and curly tail sticking out from under the bush. I gripe at her and pull the leash, and to my surprise, she comes out with a dead squirrel in her mouth.
Not your run of the mill road kill but a petrified version. Stiff as a damn board all intact, beady little black eyes that see nothing anymore. She’s proud of her find, but I’m not. I demand she drop it and she does. By this time Cooper has got in on the game, and while I’m trying to drag Nikki away with one leash, he lunges in and grabs the petrified vermin.
Thus, begins two rounds of trying to control these fools on 6 foot long leads. I no sooner get the squirrel away from one than the other dog grabs it. By this time, I have leashes wrapped all around me, and I’m cussing enough that a few neighbors look out their doors at the commotion.
They quickly decide to slam their doors and let me deal with it on my own. The fool with the Huskies is having a problem. I can almost hear the laughter and feel the gaze of video cameras filming me trying to untangle myself and keep that damn squirrel out of one dog or another’s maw.
So, the rest of the walk home was uneventful unless you consider two prey animals all worked up about a dead rodent. We ought to use road kill as motivation for races. You know, hang a pole out in front of the dogs with a petrified squirrel as bait. I’m sure you could do the Iditarod in 2 days instead of 8.
We get home, and my wife asked me how the walk was. We score our dog walks on how many people with dogs leashed or unleashed. I told her we didn’t see anyone.
She gets down on her knees and tells the dogs how good they are. They give her kisses all over her face, and I’m standing there, grinning.
“What?” She asks me.
So, I tell her about the squirrel incident. It takes a few seconds before she realizes that the dogs have been giving her kisses with squirrel breath. She runs for the bathroom to find a washcloth and soap.
I’m laughing my ass off because well, in my wife’s words at that time, “You’re an ass!”
And that concludes another walk. No one died or got sick, the squirrel didn’t care, and we made it home in one piece.
Thanks so much for the best (and only) laugh I’ve had this week. I cannot wait for the next one. Rock on Nikki and Coop!
Hysterical! We have two big ones, 65 and 78 pounds and we each walk one every day. We live in the city, but there are walk able canyons close to home and about half of their 90 minute walk is spent there. Neither has been trained to run and pull. Our rescue boy was trained to heel because he was pretty wild, but we only enforce it when we cross the street. They are on retractable leashes, 16 footers, so when they see a rabbit in the canyon, they take off. We’ve learned to anticipate things. Our girl always stops and alerts for a couple of seconds. Since the rabbit always zigzags, so do the dogs, so we can mainly keep up. But then we have the lease ballet, as we call it. Both of us trying not to get tangled as they run with their noses to the ground. They also hunt in bushes for mice and lizards and our boy is a flyer. He leaps either straight up several feet or broad jumps across several bushes. It’s all good!Andrea