The smell of coffee is in the air, the emails have been checked and the dogs are going nuts. That can only mean one thing; time for the morning walk! Collars on. Leashes on. Its time to go.
Some walks are meant to be adventures and some are strictly routine. This morning’s is the regular routine. Truth be told, it is somewhat out of necessity. Dash refuses to use the restroom in his own yard. Only under extreme conditions will he do so. He sits around and acts like a constant nuisance in the mornings. We open the door and he runs outside with Winston, but Dash will just stand in the driveway and bark to whoever may be on the other side of the wall. Sunny is a wildcard; sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t. He usually does his ‘business’ with great stealth, so you never really know if he did or didn’t. So not matter who did what, we still have to get out because Dash is stubborn.
We head down the hill towards the end of the street. I am in control of the ‘death squad’, Dash and Winston. These two together are like wild men. Thankfully, there hadn’t been any other dog sightings this morning, so all is going along smoothly. We cross the last cross street and I hear a neighbor yell…then Tonya. There are two loose poodles heading my way! I look towards the little fuzzy balls coming my way, and tighten up on Dash. Thankfully, he did not react in some crazed fashion. He stood still and erect and stared down and the poor excuses of the canine family. Winston, on the other hand, was acting like the grim reaper and his right hand man were making an unexpected call. He was frantic, and pulled away, wrapping himself around a tree…making his butt an open target for the little napping fuzz balls. The owner comes running up, hands waving and in a cold sweat. His dogs don’t listen to him and it makes him more panicked. Tonya later tells me that his hands were shaking as he was trying to reconnect the leashes to his pests.
He finally gets them reconnected and we start back on our separate ways. I kid Winston for being afraid of two little poodles. We get to the end of the street and the cop is smirking because of the fracas. I smile back and we say our morning greetings. Tonya says hello as well and we carry on. He’s our favorite cop and Tonya says it is amazing that almost every time there is a dog incident, it happens when he is on duty and right by his guard house. I am sure we give him stories to tell his friends.
We walk along a street that used to be a creek. It feels like you are actually in the woods along this stretch. Once we hit this stretch, it is like Dash is on autopilot. His business is done in a quick and efficient manner. We carry on though because if Sunny has not completed his duties, he takes his time and usually does it on the very last inch of soil along this road. We cross the street to the other side and chat as we slowly meander through the trees.
Sunny suddenly stops. He sniffs around and starts doing his two step, signaling what is about to happen. I am surprised because we have barely crossed the street and he is already taking care of business. As he is hunching over, the plant he is pooping on is bobbing above his head, like some sort of ancient Aztec headdress. This makes me take notice.
 | |
| Poop on these. |
I lean forward and look at the bouncing leaves. Sunny is still busy, covering the base of the plant. I start giggling and am amazed at the sight. As soon as he finishes I call Tonya over. “Look. You notice anything strange?” and I point to his place of business. Tonya walks over and leans down and stares at the mess. Before she can answer, I laugh “Not his poop! The plant!” She stands up, looks at me and utters a simple, “Oh.” She looks to the plant and back at me. “You see what that is that Sunny just pooped on?” I am surprised at the sight. I tell her to look closely and try her hand at being a botanist. “It’s marijuana!” I say. Tonya stands up pertly and looks back at me, “You sure?” I reply with the typical smart-ass reply, “Uh-DUH.” She leans over the plant and pulls off a leaf. It springs back and she stands there, crushes the leaf and takes a sniff. “Oh my gosh. It is! What is it doing here? Who put it here…” her list of instant inquiries goes on and on.
We both have a laugh. I cannot believe that this bright green, leafy fellow standing about three foot tall is right here! We pass this very spot every single day, and no one has noticed it until today. Sunny sniffed it out and immediately pooped on it. For a brief moment I imagined Sunny as a full time, gainfully employed drug sniffing dog. I rubbed his head and he looked up at me with his typical bewildered look, and then I realized, ‘Nope. This is Sunny. No such doings’. We carry on talking about what crazy turns this morning has taken. Wild poodles and wild pot plants. Tonya carries on about the panicked poodle owner. I think to Lulu and her constant assertions that Mexicans don’t do drugs. How do you explain this then? This is a long way away from the border…
As we head back home, we enter back into the neighborhood and back past our favorite cop again. He smiles a big smile and we do too. I wonder if he knows what is just around the corner. The bread guy on a bike rides by and shouts out good morning. I raise my hand and shout back. Tonya muses out loud, “Whose do you think it is? Is it him? Do you think it is the trash man?” I guess it will be a mystery.
No comments:
Post a Comment