I have a busy day ahead, but I am taking this few moments before I get started to share my morning walk with you. I know I'm jumping the gun just a bit on the weather, it was actually a little frosty still this morning, but I was desperate. I can't take another moment of winter and there was a beautiful sunrise, so I decided it was time to introduce Chumleigh to the forest. Have I mentioned that we are blessed to have a beautiful forest just off our back garden? Well, beautiful might be a strong word at this particular time of year, but expansive works and in just a few short weeks, beautiful will be an insufficient description. So Chumleigh and I headed out excited about our adventure. My sweet little dog has managed to pack the heart of a true explorer into the tiniest of bodies and he was excited; I could barely keep up with him. I watched with pleasure as his tiny little legs propelled him from one exciting scent to another. He would jump on top of fallen logs and stand straight and alert at the apex of each log. I could practically hear his Tarzan call warning the other denizens of the forest that he had arrived and they should beware!
Compared to the vastness of the forest, he seemed so tiny, but certainly up to the task of traversing the uneven terrain. My one question was, why he has such a penchant for pooping under my piano, and yet seems to think that soiling the forest floor is such a sacrilege. Apparently nature is sacred ground because in all the times I have taken him on a walk, he has never once pooped outside. I'm starting to feel that the socially responsible little blue camo bag of poop bags that I purchased was a waste of money as I'm fairly certain that my carpets are the only pooping grounds that he is interested in. I'm sorry, my bitterness has caused me to digress. We were busy adventuring.
We finished navigating the steep hill that leads to the stream and arrived at the forest floor where I found a lovely fallen log to sit on and prepared to relax and listen to some music on my iPhone while Chumleigh explored around me. He darted this way and then sniffed over that way. He was a mighty jungle terrier who knew nothing of fear until...yes, there is always an until with Terriers; until, somewhere off in the distance a wild pack of suburban canine warriors apparently got into a tussle. There was an outburst of snapping and snarling and barking. Now, clearly it was several blocks away, but it seems that Chumleigh has an aural depth perception issue. He looked at me in a blind panic and the next second bolted, at top terrier speed, back up the hill. We have established in past blogs that he is a very tiny little dog, but I have to tell you that those tiny little legs can really move. He tore off in a blur of speed with me bellowing for him to come back. I would catch occasional glimpses of his retreating form as he would bound, in a single, freakishly high leap over fallen logs and rocks. I used my firmest voice, the one that made my children quake in fear, but it had no effect on him. I raced after him up the steep incline. For a brief moment he stopped at the top of the rise in response to my insistent commands to come, but he just looked at me with wild incoherent eyes, glazed with fear and said quite clearly, "Are you crazy? The very hounds of hell are practically ripping me to shreds and you want me to stop?" After that, he turned and ran and it was the last I saw of him.
I searched everywhere. I called, I yelled, I pleaded, I promised dog biscuits. I even said he could poop on the carpet...okay, that parts not true, but I did plead. I couldn't find him anywhere. I finally headed back to the house in the hopes that he would be there.
As I trekked down the last stretch of meadow I looked towards the house and noticed a tiny little shaking dog standing behind the sliding glass door, next to a two inch opening in the door that he had somehow managed to squeeze himself through.
I like to think that he looked a little relieved that the hell hounds hadn't gotten me, but I suspect he was just glad that I was there to protect him. As I type this, he is nestled safely in the hat and glove basket at the foot of the stairs. But he keeps eying the piano, so I'd better go now.
Have a great day and stay away from hell hounds.
Update: It's been about three hours since our ill-fated walk and Chumleigh has permanently adhered himself to my ankle. Anyone know any good doggy therapists?
2 comments:
Oh no! I'm so glad you found him and he was safe (if not a bit traumatized :0/ ...) What you need now is a really adorable lead to keep him on, though it sounds like he did pretty good for the most part! That's so cute he sleeps in the hat and glove basket(0: Maybe they've got like, wolf urine scent or something scary you could put under the piano for a while, lol, to put him off it. Good luck! I LOVE YOU!
Just got new screens for my work computer and I was looking at the photo in your header; you look great! (The rest of the family is OK, too, but you look great)!
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