a Scarlet D

My physical therapist said that I should walk, because walking is the solution to everything.
So, I had a half an hour before my physical therapist appointment and thought, hey, I could go walk.
So, here I am.
Actually stopped at Como first, but it was just too busy.
Newell’s just a nice, quiet little park.
And we used to come here when I was little. My dad and I used to come here with our dog, Missy, and we would run her.
This is back in the days before leash laws, so you could have your dog just run around.
Dad had Missy on a leash, but it had a choke collar, which was basically just kind of a metal ring collar that when you pull on it, it goes through a larger ring that restricts it, but not like painfully. I mean, I don’t know, it could have been painful, but it was not the most horrible looking device ever, and he used that to train her.
And train her he did.
She could sit and stay like you would never believe.
We’d be in Newell Park here, and dad would have her on the leash, and then they would stop, and he would say sit, and there she would sit.
And then he undid the collar, and there she would sit.
And he would stand there, just kind of waiting, and there she would sit.
And at some point, he would say “Go!” and she would go like a bullet. Just flying straight across that park, like she’d been waiting for it, but quietly.
She would just go zoom all around.
And eventually, dad would say—and not yell, but he would say it in a dad voice—he would say “Missy, come!” and no matter where she was or how far away she would come straight to him and assume that sitting position again, and just wait.
And he’d put the collar back on her, and then he would say “Missy, heel,” and he would start walking again. She would be right at his heel.
He could do that with or without the leash.
And she just seemed happy as a clam to do all these things.
She didn’t seem forced or anything like that. She just seemed like she was having fun, especially when she became the bullet.
A lot of years later, long after dad had died, I was visiting my sister, where they do have fairly strict leash laws.
And I offered to take their dog, Bentley, out for a walk.
I believe my daughter, Lily, was with us. She was at that wonderful age where she was my buddy.
And so we went out, and Bentley was young and not that disciplined, and prone to just being excited.
But we had Bentley on the leash, and I was doing the whole, you know, sit, stay, heel thing.
I think he’d had some classes, so he was familiar with the concepts, but I was having mixed luck.
And by the time we got all the way down the street to the beach, or rather to the collection of rocks that leads to water, Bentley went in the water.
And then Bentley went in the water.
And poor Lily wanted to be the perfect dog custodian, so she had the little green bag out, and she’s trying to collect up the stuff which is in the water, and it was not going well because it was dissipating.
But try she did.
So I guess that’s two dog stories.
One park.

A walk.
Bunch of people, a bunch of years, but some really good memories.
That is all.
Oh, and I blew about three spoons doing this walk. So..