Walking the Dastardly Duo at the same time is like watching Lucy and Ethel try to pack candy. It’s a comedy of errors.

Oh it’s not totally their fault, I am after all their handler and trainer and it seems like I’m not actually very good at either task.

Try as I might, I can’t quite get an handle on how to train two dogs to walk nicely together.  There’s a woman that has been seen around our neighborhood walking three dogs.  They walk along at a good clip, and don’t seem to have any issues.

I hate that woman.

In contrast, we look like we’re doing an episode of Who’s on First?

Right out of the driveway it’s a contest to see which way we will go.  Once that is decided, it’s going either one of two ways.  1) The two of them take off, each trying to get ahead of the other, with me puffing behind and trying to keep my arms from dislocating from my shoulders.  Or 2) Delilah is ahead of me, taut at the end of her leash, while Sampson is behind me, receiving or leaving some pee mail.

When they walk side by side Delilah always takes the inside route.  (Truthfully I think she’s got an ulterior motive to always find the crap on the side of the road first.) Eventually one of them will find something interesting to sniff and the other dog will dart over.  This is when their leashes entangle, or someone gets clotheslined, or worse, Delilah’s leash is tight across Sampson’s butt, urging him forward.  That’s when I get ‘the look.’

You know which one, the one that says, ‘Hey the Chamber of Secrets is closed.  Stop pushing on it.”

Dude it ain’t me.

Of course, there are times when I’m the one getting clotheslined and the leash is behind my knees, propelling me forward and I can’t keep up.

Or worse yet.

Remember how I said, she’s trying to kill me?  Well Monday she put forth her best effort.

It was slightly windy on Monday and Delilah thought every leaf that blew in the road was something to be chased. I can’t tell you how many times I said leave it.  Which I found amusing, since it was a leaf.

Get it?

I would treat her when she left it, but still the majority of our walk, her ears were up and she was alert.

Finally I gave up and gave her a bit of leash so she could check it out herself and discover it was nothing but a leaf.

Maybe that is where I went wrong.  I don’t know.

Here’s what happened.  Sampson stopped to poop.  And I (doing my duty) stopped to pick up the doody. 

Sampson was slightly in front of me and Delilah slightly behind me, I picked up the poop and stood up, and in those precious few seconds, when I loosened my grip on the leash, when I was vulnerable and not paying attention, that’s when it happened.

I felt a tug. It was strong enough that it yanked me and I felt myself falling.  I heard the sound of plastic skittering across the pavement, my left hip and the back of my head made contact with the road.

And there I was, flat on my back at 6:40 in the morning on the side of the road.

I didn’t lose consciousness, it took a few seconds, but I sat up, I shouted at Delilah and then I thought, my glasses, where are my glasses?  Gah! I Hope I don’t stand up and step on them. (That would totally be my luck.)

The next thing I realized was, I could still see, so my glasses, thankfully, were still on my head.  It was the light I wear on the brim of my hat that had fallen off.

Delilah was off down the street, disillusioned with what turned out to be a leaf, (which I told her numerous times to begin with) and Sampson was right beside me.  I got up on all fours, found the hat light and made my way to my feet.  I felt my head, there were no bumps or blood.  I grabbed Delilah’s leash and started back towards home.

Fuming the whole way.

I use a harness on Delilah, but usually I have the hook on the back, mostly because when I put the harness on the proper way, she manages to walk over it and get it stuck between her legs, and I’m constantly stopping to unwrap her.  But since that little incident, she’s wearing it the right way and as soon as I get my income tax money, I’m getting her the harness I use for Sampson which is totally awesome and helps keep him from pulling.

Between tangled leashes, pulled arms, trying to maneuver past barking dogs, and dumb ass dogs that bite my fingers and chase leaves, most of our walks involve lots of cussing on my part.  I’ve started to look at walking them as a chore.

Once upon a time, I loved walking my dogs.

I struggle a lot with trying to find the right title for my posts, so when I have more than one, ‘m going to share it with you so you can give me your thoughts.

Alternative titles for this post: She Rang My Bell , It Ain’t Me Babe and The Answer Isn’t Blowing in the Wind. Leave me your thoughts in the comments.

FYI I’m okay.  I wear a ball cap with a pair of fleece ear muffs over it. Thankfully the part of my head that hit the pavement was covered by both the cap and the ear muffs.

 

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