Morning encounter

Hank Williams Jr. and I met up with a couple of neighborhood kids this morning.  Hank and I were out for our morning walk. The kids were making their way to the local elementary school. A girl and her younger brother - she about 10 years old, he about 7. She pushed herself along on her scooter while he walked beside her.

It was inevitable that we would meet since they were heading for the same corner, coming at a right angle to our route. Hank was eager to greet them and strained against the leash as we walked up the block.

At the corner, Hank stopped. The boy turned to me and I said, "he's friendly." Immediately the boy made to pet Hank's head, at which point Hank decided he was afraid of the boy and began to jump around and bark.  I quieted Hank and instructed the boy to simply put his hand out to Hank's nose for the customary introductory sniffing ritual. Eventually the boy graduated to patting Hank's head, receiving a friendly lick in return.

The boy mentioned to me as an aside, "we have three black labs at home."

"Wow!" I replied, "that's a lot!"

"Yes, and four cats," he said.

"You have a zoo of your own," I observed.

He nodded in agreement. His older sister had been silently watching the encounter from a short distance away. She piped up at that moment, not wanting to miss a sisterly, though friendly, swipe, "Three dogs, four cats, and my brother."

We all laughed, and then the kids turned to continue their way toward school.  But first, the boy said goodbye to Hank and then turned to me to bid me a quiet goodbye as well.

We went our separate ways, but I went with a warmer heart on this cold Spring morning.

Hope your weekend is warm and wonderful!

- Catherine

Calling for YOUR opinions on this one.

My husband and I had an interesting discussion last night about the Rapture.  You see, when Jesus comes for His church, every human being who lives in our house will go with Him. But what happens to our beloved dog, Hank? 

Tim and I went around and around on that concept at some length, and we didn't come to any kind of conclusion.  I have to admit I got more than a little upset picturing Hank slowly dying of thirst because there's no one here to look after him and he can't get out of the house by himself.

So, I ask you, what do you think will happen to the indoor pets when the Christians are raptured?  I'd seriously like to know your thoughts.

- Catherine

Adventures with Hank

Hank Williams Jr. (no comma in the name), as you may know, is our dog.

Every day Hank and I take at least two walks. The morning walk is partly for him and partly for me – I set the route and the pace, and he has to keep up with me. But Hank is a lab/shepherd cross and, although he’s pretty mellow, he dearly loves getting out to freely roam the neighborhood for a good long sniff.

Preferably all by himself when no one is keeping tabs on him.

Well, I worry about Hank getting hit out there – because, dang it, I’ve never been able to teach him to look both ways before crossing the street. And then there is the little institution known as Animal Control, which is pretty active in enforcing the leash laws in our town.

So, in lieu of Hank going on the lam and possibly ending up in the canine poky, he and I take a daily, mid-day ramble. He’s still on his leash, but I basically follow where he wants to go for about 20 minutes so that he can sniff everything to his heart’s content. (Bonus for me is 20 minutes of fresh air in the middle of my work day.)

We enjoyed the spring-like temps and sunshine of a few days ago. So did all the other dogs in the neighborhood – many of whom were out in their fenced-in yards. As we walked one alley, we came up to a yard with a rather low fence and two small, stocky dogs running toward us. I am not good at identifying breeds, and these might have been mixed breeds, but they definitely seemed to have some bulldog of some kind in them. And they did not like Hank sniffing on the other side of THEIR fence. Hackles were raised, teeth were bared, snarling was heard. Hank looked startled at first because he generally gets along well with other dogs. And clearly, these dogs did not like him one bit. After his first shock, Hank raised his own hackles and started barking at them. They barked back. And so it went.

I started yanking on the leash, glad there was a fence between the two malcontents and my affronted pup.

Eventually I got Hank away, but not before those two hoodlums ran the entire length of their fence, barking madly as we made our way down the alley. “And stay out!” was what I heard them saying.

So, off we go down another block, this time on the sidewalk. There are fewer dogs left in front yards than in back yards, so perhaps the rest of our walk can be peaceful.

Wrong.

Passing a house on a corner, I see a fluffy little something or other coming to the front gate. White fur sporting a topknot tied with a purple ribbon. Cute, I think. But then it was like “déjà vu all over again” – hackles raised, teeth bared, snarling heard. Once again Hank is startled as he sniffs from his side of the fence. Once again he starts barking in reply. Once again I am yanking him along.

By now I’m ruing the spring-like weather that's brought out all the dogs. And Hank’s feelings are hurt. I know this because he pretty much stops sniffing and heads steadily for home -- with two potty breaks along the way on the sacred ground of other neighborhood dogs.

“Take that!” is what I heard.

- Catherine

Hank, the Wonder Pup

Our dog, Hank Williams Jr. (no comma in the name) is a very comical fellow and also a very tender fellow. And also a very timid fellow. Today the timidity nearly did me in.

In our neighborhood there is an Ace Hardware, a store I'm very partial to for its eclectic mix of merchandise (like, they sell wine AND really cool leather bags AND nice down vests AND wood chips for barbecuing AND a whole bunch of other neat stuff). Anyway, I digress.

Ace Hardware welcomes well-behaved dogs to come into the store with their owners, so I take Hank with me and we make a nice walk out of it. Today I needed flood light bulbs for the recessed lighting in the kitchen. And I needed chocolate -- did I mention that our Ace also sells candy?

So, off we went to the Ace Hardware store, two blocks over and three blocks down.

Hank, as I mentioned, is very timid. He is nervous around a lot of people he doesn't know and in new situations. And he gets a little nervous when I take him into Ace, even though he's been there before. The staff love him, though, because he's very sweet and he is very gentle when he takes the proffered dog treats from their hands.

I purchased my box of six light bulbs and my candy bar (a Mounds bar today). We left the store and immediately a sharp sound rang through the air. It was just a workman filling in a nearby pothole but you might have thought we were being shot at, given Hank's reaction. He set off at a dead run, tail tucked under, with me being dragged along behind him. Thankfully I was able to keep my feet under me and my merchandise intact, but it involved a good city block of running before I was able to get him to stop.

The rest of the way home, he trotted at a very good clip -- under control, but still moving pretty fast. When we got in the house, he drank every drop in his water bowl and then, with a huge sigh, plunked down on the carpet in my office. And that's where he's been the whole time I've been writing this blog post.

Note to self: check for road repair work before taking Hank back to Ace. Unless I actually WANT another sprint behind a crazed dog, that is.

- Catherine