Those were the fateful words which resulted in Sister and me wading through a number of raging rivers, getting a very public soap-less bath, and realizing that we had been very much betrayed by our own father.
It was Saturday afternoon and Sister had decided that I looked a little too comfortable snoozing in the back room and declared that it was time for a walk. At the mention of the word "walk," I jumped up from my prone state and scurried to the door. You see, despite those long treks I was taken on as a puppy designed specifically to tire me out and drive away the devil lurking within me, I'd actually come to rather enjoy walks in the years since provided, of course, I get to sniff every single tree, fire hydrant, fence post, bush, and telephone pole in a ten-foot radius, it isn't too hot or too sunny out, and route isn't too long. Anyway, on went my leash, Sister grabbed a handful of cookies (a reward for me for after the walk and a spare just in case we meet a friend along the way), and out the door we rushed.
Our walk started like any other--we always walk two blocks north, turn left, then walk three blocks west to the park. For the first two blocks, everything was normal. But after turning left and walking a block west, it started to drizzle lightly. This didn't faze us though, because we could see blue skies peeking out through the clouds directly over the park. On we continued.
Two blocks later, as we reached the park, the rain went from a drizzle to a steady shower. Sister wanted to seek shelter under a nearby tree, but I insisted on sniffing a telephone pole first. As I sniffed and Sister tugged at my leash, the rain started falling harder. Eventually, she managed to drag me to the tree line, but, just as Sister had misjudged the severity of the storm, she had also misjudged the amount of coverage that the trees would provide. Basically, there was no coverage. This seemed to bother Sister, but not me. Instead, I shook then proceeded to drag Sister up and down the length of the park, eventually pausing to do business.
After cleaning up, Sister contemplated our options. As far as she could see, there were only two; we could either hurry home as fast as we could through the pouring rain or run half a block further to the baseball diamond that had a sheltered dugout. Sister decided that we should try to make our way to the dugout.
But first we had to cross the street. Hoping not to slip out of her sandals in the process, Sister secured her grip on my leash, warned me that we were going to walk in a "controlled manner," and took a step out into the middle of the street. I'm proud to report that Sister managed to stay upright on her feet while we crossed the river that was presently forming in the middle of the street. I'm also proud to say that I splashed my way through each and every puddle that crossed my path (and thereby splashed Sister through as well).
When we reached the opposite curb and Sister noticed the flooded out and muddy outfield separating us and the dry dugout, she stopped, crouched down in the pouring rain, and started laughing uncontrollably. "Well," Sister said to me, water dripping down her face, "we're already soaked--maybe we should just head home. Besides, if Pa comes by looking for us he won't see us in the dugout." I wagged my tail; I was having fun in the rain and now I could look forward to a car ride.
Straightening herself out and gripping onto the fence for support, Sister told me to "heel" and we started home. Through ankle deep puddles, water rushing toward storm drains, and rain dripping in our eyes, Sister and I waded toward home. Every time a car approached us, we looked up hopefully, expecting Pa to come to our rescue. And every time the car drove past us, we sadly lowered our eyes and continued walking. This continued for all five blocks
Eventually, Sister and I made it home--completely soaked to the bone.
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| Two Drowned Rats |
If there was a prize for bad excuses, Pa would have won it on his first two attempts at explaining himself. First, he said that he had been busy closing all the windows in the house and didn't have time to get Sister and me. Sister and I didn't buy it. Then he said that he would have come to get us, but he had no way of knowing where we could have been. Sister and I stared at him. We always go the same route! Finally, Pa said that he would have come to get us, but then the car would have gotten wet. Ding, ding, ding...we have a winner!
Pa toweled me off and Sister stalked off to change her clothes. Her hair and my fur, both having been soaked through, remained wet for hours. Twenty-four hours later, Sister's clothing was still vaguely damp and her shoes were still dripping water. Sister's anger hadn't decreased either.
Of course, looking back on the whole event and despite all the fun I had splashing through the puddles, I am very much hurt by Pa's abandonment that afternoon. I would have fully expected Pa to make Sister walk home in the pouring rain, but not me. I'm his buddy, his pal, his son, his favorite. He should have come to my rescue.
