In dog training, jerk is a noun, not a verb. ~ Dr. Dennis Fetko
Friday night it was pouring buckets of rain in Tiburon. I keep hearing how unusual it is for so much rain this time of year in the Bay Area. Huh. Nevertheless, it was wet, wet, wet all day and night. That usually means we are cooped up in the house and the boys get bored.
I went to bed around 10:30 p.m. and was sleeping soundly until I was awakened by the sound of a moan and a little bark. I know by now that is Walter and he needs to go outside to go potty.
At first I am a little confused because I think it is time to get up for work. So, I get out of bed and open the front door to let Walter out (like I do every single morning); but as I glance at the clock on the table by my side of the bed, I realize it is only 1:38 a.m.! UGH. Another one of Walty’s middle-of-the night potty runs.
I do not like when Walter does this because he has a tendency to wander off sometimes. I didn't want to go out in the yard in the rain so I just stood on the deck and watched him. It was raining so hard that I think he will just do his business and come right back in.
He finishes, turns around and heads back to the front deck steps so I turn around and head to the door. Good boy. When I get to the door, I turn around, and realize that Walter is no longer behind me. In an instant, he is gone.
Oh, crap.
I walk back out to the front deck and peer out into the teaming rain and do not see him anywhere in the front yard. I whisper his name over and over (I cannot call out loud since it is now almost two o’clock in the morning and I do not want to wake the neighbors.) No sign of him. Oh, man, I have a bad feeling about this. It was only a few weeks ago that I was climbing over a neighbor's deck into their yard to retrieve Walter in the middle of the night. Not again.
I go back inside and put on my raincoat, rain boots and grab the umbrella. I head out past the front lawn and onto the sidewalk and look up and down the street. Nothing. I call out his name again in the loudest whisper I can muster and still nothing. I start to walk down the street and start looking in the usual places. Nothing.
Next thing I know, Henry is by my side. I guess he decided to come out and help me. Henry is extremely protective of his mommy and he also likes to feel useful. So, Henry and I start walking down the street together in search of the very naughty Walter. I am NOT happy!
I wonder to myself: Why is Walter misbehaving so much lately? Maybe he hates our small apartment as much as we do; but at this juncture, I am having a hard time feeling bad for him. I am thinking to myself: What a jerk he is! It’s two o'clock in the morning and I am standing outside in my pajamas in the pouring rain, AGAIN - frantically trying to track him down.
I squint through the sheets of water and mist and think I see a white flash a long way down the road by the entrance to the beach area. Could that be Walter? I squint again and say to myself: Yes – it has to be him. A big, white flag-like tail is sticking out from behind the wall by the deck that leads to the beach. I can’t believe it.
He is way down there? I am ready to scream but I cannot.
I am praying the gate to the beach is not open because I am in no mood to be heading down to the beach - which is right off the deep, dark woods of the bird sanctuary. Oh, God, please don’t let the gate be open. I do not want to go down there in the middle of the night - in the rain - in the dark.
As Henry and I head down to the end of the block, Walty peeks out from around the corner and spots us. I try not to show that I am upset with him because if I do, I know he will bolt again. So I say: Walty, come here good boy! He starts to walk toward me but at a very slow pace. He's meandering now?! Serioulsy?! He's got to be kidding!
I call his name in a loud whisper again and tell him to come. He does. When he reaches me, he runs past me and bolts back to the house. I turn and run after him, with Henry still loyally by my side. Walter must know he is in trouble because he bounds up the front steps, into the house and into the bedroom. Henry and I follow him in and I close the door.
Warm. Dry. Safe. Ahhh.
I don't even have to tell Walter to lie down - he is already down. I tell him that he was very naughty and to go to sleep. I shed my rain gear and climb back into the soft comfort of my bed. Then it hits me that it is Saturday and not a work day! I am so relieved but so tired that I must have fallen asleep in five seconds flat because I remember nothing after that.
I cannot wait to move into our new place with the little fenced yard and the doggie door.
Two more days.
Why Dogs and Food?
Why Dogs and Food?
It's simple. Write about what you love. And what is better than dogs and food? If you are anything like me - and millions of other people - you will relate to and understand the unwavering love I have for my dogs and my passion for cooking - and eating - great food. I hope you will enjoy reading about my day to day experiences with good food and a couple of very special dogs.
Thanks for visiting.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Another Late Night Romp for Walty
Written and Posted by
Liz Berry
on
Sunday, June 05, 2011
3
Comments - Click here to post your comment
Labels:
Dog Stories
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)