Wild Dingo

Loki and I went to our usual dog park this Sunday morning, after having been to the vet to treat a small eye infection. The dog park we go to is really great. Most people with and without dogs love the dogs on the trail.

We park close to the off-leash dog park and walk under an overpass that has a sloped walkway for pedestrians, cyclists and dog walkers. The walkway has a zig-zag gate on both ends so cyclists are encouraged to get off their bikes. Loki and I were already on the flat part of the underpass when an old dude came up behind us on his bike and startled us. I quickly pulled Loki in and moved aside, however, since Loki was startled, he barked. This is where Loki can seem, well, like a bad dog. Mostly he just barks a lot on the leash when he’s startled.

I’m a cyclist and whenever I (rarely) ride one of these shared park trails I won’t get off my bike for the small zig-zag gates, however, I always yield to pedestrians and dog walkers as I would a horseback rider or hiker on a dirt trail. It’s just polite. And since I’m dog walker who’s a cyclist, I’m also fine with yielding to cyclists when I’m walking my dog. Because I know it’s kind of a pain to mount and dismount when you don’t need to. So no matter if I’m on the bike or walking my dog on these shared trails, I yield out of politeness–no matter what.

And typically, whenever I approach a dog walker while on my bike, I say hello from 20 or 30 feet back, so not to startle the dog or walker. Just because it is polite. If I happen to startle an excitable dog, I make my way by as quickly as I can and ignore the dog, giving the owner a chance to control the dog without making the situation worse.

So, I’m yielding to the cyclists and the old dude on the bike passes, and wavers around like he’s drunk, barely able to hold his line, his bike weighed down with all his life possessions. A young dude on a bike is behind him, but clearly not riding with him. Loki’s startled so he barks then shuts up.

They pass and as they start up the 5% grade to the next gate, about 30 feet ahead of me, I begin to walk slowly, expecting they will ride off quickly. It should have taken 20 seconds for the 2 cyclists to pass me and make it through the gate. But Loki, still freaked, barked again, and the old dude fumbles the hill and didn’t even make it to the gate. I’m still about 30 feet behind them. The young dude in back, track stands behind the fumbling old dude and then casually pedals off around him. I stop and wait. Loki barks some more. At this point, I should correct him, but the old dude is already trying to correct him for me. “Shut up!” he yells repeatedly, fumbling off his bike and then back on. I start quietly laughing because it’s obvious he’s pissed that Loki’s bark caused him fumble the hill. The old dude pedals off yelling “shut up” and flipping Loki (or me) the bird as if Loki understands what it means. I haven’t said a word at this point. I should be correcting Loki, but I just find the entire thing so amusing, and happening so fast, I can’t bring myself to correct him. They ride off.

We get to the gate, where it is clearly our turn to go through and I have to give Loki a little more slack on his lead because it’s a zig-zag gate. Loki and I didn’t see the jogger to the left in the trees waiting and we would have walked by peacefully. Only she wasn’t the crunchiest chip in the bag, so she joins in on assaulting Loki and me, yelling every expletive imaginable. Loki, completely startled by an obnoxious yelling woman, barks back at her and pulls toward her. And she yells some more. And he barks some more. We walk off while she continues her sanctimonious expletives.

“Loki, why did you bark at that jogger,” I asked.
He replies, “Didn’t you see it?”
“See what Loki?”
“The stick up her butt. I only wanted to play fetch!”

Smart boy, Loki.

Meanwhile, here are more pictures from his daily wrestling matches.

Hey Kid, how’s it goin’?
 
Vushki: Okay tough boy. Quite a man, aren’t you? You know something? They’re all different sizes and shapes when they come in here. But they go out the same size: small. And the same shape—bent.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not much of an arm wrestler. Wanna try thumb wrestling?

I needed a drink. I needed a lot of life insurance. I needed a vacation. I needed a home in the country. But what I had was an oversized husky, latched onto my back.

I just like you so much Vushki! You big lug!

He was a large dog, handsome and durable. He wore a salt and pepper coat that would have looked ridiculous on a tiger. His mouth was wide open, which it had to be if his tongue was going to hang out.
 
Loki pulls out his famous “Sit-on-What-I-Own” move.
Loki: “Keep quiet or you’ll get the same and more of it. Just lie quiet and hold your breath until you can’t hold it any longer. Then ask yourself what would be worse, not breathing or breathing in the fumes from the gas chamber pointed at you. Vushki: ya, whatever kid.

Bitin’ isn’t a disease. It’s a symptom.