I’ve always thought of my outings with the wee little doggie as walking the dog. Today I came to the full realization that I am walking the nose. It is a nose with ears, eyes, and legs, but the nose drives the rest of the body.
No matter how many times I attempt to walk the hiking trail, thinking it will become more familiar with time, it actually becomes a more robust place of mystery. Grass, bushes, trees, flowers, rhubarb plants, and a variety of other objects become ritual items of great power. Such power, in fact, that the wee little doggie will dart behind me – thereby almost flipping me over backward from the pressure of the leash behind my knees – as she darts towards the object of reverence dictated by the nose. “Heel? What’s that?”
And, of course, the wee little doggie does not understand keeping to the right of the blue dividing line on the trail. Consequently, we present a challenge for the cyclists who whiz by at high speeds rather than at the slow speeds dictated by the signage. Apparently neither cyclists nor dogs can read. And the wee little doggie is actually a wee little nose with legs to propel it towards nirvana and I’m positive a nose can’t read or reason.
And then there are the bridges – which cyclists take down the middle. And the wee little doggie cowers in place; whatever place she’s been in when the cyclists take to the confined space over the stream. I’ve taken to carrying her under my arm across the bridges to keep from having a pile-up or an injured dog. Also, it stops the nose from examining every board, post, and wire.
She’s already caused one pile-up from a young child on a bicycle focusing on an incredibly cute wee little doggie, thus missing the curve and ending up over the handlebars and face-first in a pile of plants. The little child was embarrassed, but fine, thankfully. Like one of those impossibly cute infants people love to make over, so do those same people love wee little doggies who are impossibly cute.
Today the walk with the nose was short as other parts of the wee little doggie decided it was too warm, despite refusing the lovely, clean water presented in the silicone water bowl. So we stayed in the shade and let her cool down, then took her back to the hot car where she slurped down a bowl (same bowl) of cool, pure water (same water). This is apparently something the nose cannot readily distinguish.
It really is a lovely walk. Perhaps earlier in the morning? One can never tell about these things.