Laddie was feeling butthurt this morning. He’d had his breakfast and his little walkie around the yard, but now Uncle Joel was suiting up to go away and he didn’t feel like being left alone. He planted himself between me and the door and put on his Oppressed Minority face.
I don’t normally take him with me because … well, frankly, he’s a townie dog I don’t dare leave off the leash and it’s a pain in the ass. On the other hand I do worry about him becoming a fat couch potato old before his time. And I was only planning to go up to the pump house to get the model number of the well pump charge controller. I can stay on the beaten path for that; easy to watch for dog-eating snakes.
So I asked him if he wanted another walkie, which was patently what he wanted (I speak dog) and he launched into his approving little dance. I hitched him up and we took the easy way up to the top of the ridge. He was so clearly having a good time that I decided a curated tour of a milder part of the boonies couldn’t hurt much.
Sorry about the snapshot quality, I didn’t even think about the sun angle at the time.
Anyway, he had fun and it’s something I really need to work into our schedule together. In the next few weeks it shouldn’t be much of a problem: My friends say they have a fenced yard, which is what he was used to for most of his life, and he might end up not wanting to come back home.