But let me explain.
Yesterday I threw the dogs in the van and took them to beautiful Bowen Island, which is a 20 minute ferry ride from Horseshoe Bay in West Vancouver.
We went to visit my sister’s partner’s parents, who have a big, comfortable rambling homestead over there on a few blissfully peaceful acres. Dogs are very welcome. In fact, everything is very welcome, as the Cadys are warm people with nary an ounce of pretension. And their home is beautiful.
But Tweed is superstitious, and found the Cady house *extremely* scary. The house is full of curiosities and objets d’art and Tweed was convinced that all of them were Out.To.Get.Him.
Although that last one I kind of have to give him – up those stairs lives Charlie The Killer Cat. I’m not even kidding. While we were exploring the house, Charlie leapt off a bed and ONTO a completely unsuspecting Wootie and delivered upon him a beating of world class proportions. It made Tweed’s thrashing from the other day look like an intimate embrace of true love. The screaming may haunt the Cadys for the remainder of their days.
We eventually had to close the door to that part of the house, because Charlie was laying in wait for another canine victim. Dude, that is one scary f*cking cat!
Tweed also spent a good portion of the evening barking in abject terror at the face of a statue of Buddha sitting on an end table. I got no photos of this because I was mortified – Smartest Breed In The World my arse.
Anyway, Tweed had clearly had a premonition, which became obvious when we took the dogs down to see the Indian Runner ducks (BTW – Funniest.Ducks.EVER).
Indian Runners are very flocky and like sheep, they all tend to go in the same direction on foot, all waddly with their big tall necks, making concerned quackings as they go. They are popular among working dog enthusiasts for practicing for this reason.
I thought for sure that they would capture the interest of my three, you know, herding dogs?
Tweed was (surprise!) afraid of them. Piper dismissed them as they were in a dog-free coop and therefore, of no value to her.
Mr. Woo …
Mr. Woo RAN AWAY.
And I mean, he ran the f*ck away. Not from the ducks – he just ran away.
Notice the complete absence of Wootie in this photograph of the back part of the property. That’s because he was already 400 miles away.
I don’t know exactly how big Bowen Island is, but it would not surprise me if Wootie circled it several times in his BADDOGFREEFORALL.
Wootie came to me with no recall whatsoever. The word “come” means, to Wootie, run really far and fast in the opposite direction. I have worked on his recall endlessly, and really thought we had made some headway as I can now call him off even a squirrel most of the time. He still does not have the enthusiastic about-face top-speed return of my other dogs, but I have been very smug about how much I have achieved with him. However, I have never had the opportunity to test it in the conflicting face of the intoxicating scent of BOWEN ISLAND DEER.
So while everyone else at the dinner party was enjoying fine wine, good company, the warm glow of the fire etc. etc., I was fighting my way through dense forest and swamps trying to track down an extremly wayward Mr. Woo. Periodically, far in the distance of the gathering dusk, I would catch a glimpse of The Flamboyance(tm) as Woo sailed over fallen trees and crashed through undergrowth. And I sounded like a one-woman drunken camping party as I screamed his recall command (in retrospect, perhaps a poor choice, as Wootie’s recall command is “WOOOOOO-HOOOOOO!”) over and over again.
It’s obvious to me now that my failed attempts to get Woo to exercise could easily have been solved by simply dropping him off in deer country and returning for him a few days later. He’d probably be 10 lbs lighter, because he would NEVER STOP RUNNING.
Eventually he returned to my general vicinity, tongue dragging 7 feet behind him, and I tackled him like a linebacker in the Superbowl. He was covered head to toe in Bowen Island mud and his Flamboyance(tm) was decorated with Forest Stuff like a cruel and mocking Christmas Tree. I bathed him in the creek, and dragged him kicking and screaming the whole way back to the house.
*Vindicated Tweed Gets Victory Snuggle From Auntie Tanus*
You can open doorz, and I can haz deer chase plz? kthnx!
Now who’s the bonehead, huh? Oh wait – still me. Nevermind.
ETA: It is 12:10 on Sunday afternoon and it is SNOWING AGAIN. Someone is in BIG trouble!!!!