Somehow, I don't think "Stay! You blankety blank piece of blank!" is suggested as a command in the instruction book of how to train your dog.
Gracie and I kind of went for a walk this morning. We probably covered a half mile, tops. At least I wasn't the only one panting at the end.
She was very agreeable at first. She chafed at my efforts to keep her on my right side. (I think it's supposed to be the left, but I liked the right.) Oh, she didn't prefer the left. It was just a pleasant and usually sudden alternative.
Tripping me? She gave me that insoucient adolescent look.
"Clumsy, aren't you? That wasn't MY fault."
There were some birds on the ground. She wanted to chase, and bark.
Many, many dogs in practically every house. She wanted to visit. We proceeded with my muscling her along (all four feet on the ground.)
She's a growing dog, approaching five months and 20 pounds of solid muscle and will power. She wasn't cranky about it. I was the only one cranky. She just tested, and tested, and tested limits.
How she got enough slack in the leash twice to run around me, leash totally tying my legs together, I don't know. I didn't fall, though. I think I said something about a piece of something again.
And when we started home on the two-lane highway, going south, well. Pretty good shoulder there, we were some distance from the road. Gracie made it perfectly clear that of the two of us, I was going to be the one closest to the motor vehicles. She was going to shelter in my lee, so to speak. And I didn't have the muscle to win that battle.
So we limped home. I flicked her with the leash when she yelled at the chickens. She's supposed to protect chickens, not yell at them. She proceeded with me and stopped lunging, but she barked several more times.
And this short little ramble took almost 30 minutes.
Guess I'll be reading up today.
Because, you know, having started, we have to do this again tomorrow.
What have I done?