Saturday, May 16, 2009

My Dog is an A-Hole and oh, by the way "hi, Noah!"

Soooo... I've been so neglectful of this blog that it could probably be better-described and total and complete abandonment. But hey, I'm here right now so lets not dwell on the past.

Let me catch you up: Since I last wrote, I've moved to Austin, gotten a new job, furnished a new apartment, had my car killed and got a new car. I have been loving life. That's pretty much it.

Today, I decided to take Benson to the Greenbelt after the allllll daaaaaaayyy looooong rain finally let up. My Lovie is in Richmond/DC for work/pleasure so it's just me and Benson on our own down here in the Lone Star state for a few more days.

Oh the Greenbelt after a day of rains - aromatic, lush, peaceful and, well, green. Yeah, I coulda said verdant, but who am I tryin' to impress?!

Benson and I made our way down a rocky path to wander the still-dry-creek bed. (They're really not kidding about that super severe drought, folks...) Enjoying being outside and pleased to make my dog happy with an adventure, I spent relatively little time thinking about what I normally think about in woods: What if I stumble across a dead body?!?! I maybe only thought of it like twice, or three times. Is that abnormal? Do other people instantly think about finding bodies when surrounded in heavy foliage? Hey, I don't know, but I do. That and how to fend off a possible attacker who intends to make me into the dead body someone else might find. Blame it on too much Law and Order.

Annnnyways... Suddenly Benson sees something in the woods to our left (A body?!) and freezes on the path. I call his name as he is slightly ahead of me and I want him to come closer so I can more convincingly threaten my possible attacker with my 70 pit bull mix. (What can I say - I have a vivid imagination.) But does Benson come? Nooooo. He takes off. Diving over rocks and under tree limbs until he's about 20 feet off the trail. There, whatever he is chasing seeks refuge in a large crevasse in a pile of rocks. I call and call. I am ignored.

Benson starts to attempt to crawl into the crevasse after whatever delicious creature he is chasing. He has wedged two-thirds of his body into it by the time I manage to fight my way through the foliage to get to him. I have to find a large stick nearby and wedge it in-between his chest and the rocks that he is attempting to squeeze through and use leverage to force him back to be able to grab his collar. I'm going to be honest - I am not doing any of this patiently, gracefully or quietly. I am cursing at him and getting covered in mud. I'm also having to reach into the crevasse to pull him out and WHO KNOWS what is in there. *Shudder.*

I get him out, drag him back to the trail, leash him and then am walked past by no fewer than 3 separate groups of people, all of whom had to hear me screaming and cursing at my dog and are now seeing me with leaves in my hair and covered in mud.

Lovely.

Thanks, Benson. Thanks a whole heck of a lot.

2 comments:

Noflunk said...

Hi Ari!! Benson! You know better than that. Great story. I'd start one of these but no one wants to hear about how I sit around now :P

a said...

Oh, dogs. ;) I want to hear more about what you're up to, lady! Sending my best,
austen