It's Personal: A Lion

A new chapter begins...

In Seattle, we were not very good about taking the dogs for regular walks. It was difficult for one person to handle both, and we always had other things happening. We therefore set them upon the backyard to play and run to their hearts content. And if not in the backyard, then they went to a dog park.

Well, I haven't found the dog parks in Connecticut yet. And the back yard here is not as conducive to playing. Not to mention the fact that Buddy no longer has his playmate.

I therefore decided that it would be a good idea to walk the dog. And thus, after work, I proceeded to trot the dog from the house, across the semi-main thoroughfare, and into a nice neighborhood - with sidewalks.

Buddy trotted by my side. Well, more ahead of me, upon which I know the Dog Whisperer would frown since it means the dog is leading me. Nonetheless, we meandered along the sidewalks in that neighborhood at our leisure. Buddy stopped to smell trees and fence posts and random patches of grass. He barked under his breath a few times at passersby. And a few other times at nothing in particular.

We then came to a royal blue house. It was obvious that Italians lived there by the three landmarks that graced their yard. The first was a statue of the Blessed Virgin near the house. The second two were small lion statues placed at either end of their property.

We approached the first lion, and Buddy slowed. He looked at it curiously for a moment before trotting up to it and sniffing it. He was waiting for it to move, which it didn't. Well, I hope it didn't.

We traversed the length of sidewalk between the two lions and approached the second. Across from the lion statue - on the other side of the sidewalk - was a light pole. This meant that we had to walk between the light pole and the lion. Well, Buddy was having no parts of that. He looked at the second lion and immediately backed off. I coaxed him forward, but he pulled backward with all his might. I patted his head and rubbed his stomach, telling him it was okay. We took a couple steps again, and he darted backwards, almost pulling the leash from my hand. At this point, I could do nothing but laugh. Something about the second lion - and not the first - completely freaked him out. But I also wasn't going to cross the street just because he was afraid of the lion. I therefore pulled him a bit more forcefully. He began to understand that he needed to move forward. And when that dawned on him, he took off - with me attached to the other end of the leash - past the lion and light pole until he had at least a ten foot distance from them. He then looked back and let forth a muffled growl to let the lion know his displeasure.

And we were on our way again.

I think we'll take that walk again tomorrow...