Bark At You Later

Every morning before work I take the dog for a walk around the neighborhood. At the very least we go around the block. Most days we make a loop around the grounds of the church we attend about a block away. He hunts for critters and "marks" his usual spots. He drags me around to the point that I could practically live at the chiropractor's office. But what he really lives for is for barking at Jake.

Jake is a 15 year old yellow lab (that's 105 to you and me) that lives in a 20'x20' chain link fenced area in his owner's backyard. The yard backs up to one of the roads Lance and I walk down every morning. During the winter, his owners keep him in their garage. He starts staying out in the yard over night once the weather gets nice. Being an old dog, Jake doesn't move around much. When he does, its much like Tim Conway's Old Man character from the Carol Burnett Show. Unless he sees or hears Lance. Then he forgets any aches and pains he might have and starts lunging and barking in our general direction. Lance returns the action with a fierce bark and a quick pull on his lead that almost says "let me at 'im". After 3-5 good deep barks, Jake starts hacking up a lung and quietly strolls back to his shelter and Lance returns to his standard sniffing and peeing. This happens on every walk - almost like clockwork. The only thing that varies is who initiates the jawing. Sometimes Jake is walking in his yard and spots Lance first, but most of the time its Lance that starts stalking him about 30-40 yards away. His ears perk up and he starts getting a prance to his stride. When he hits the road, he starts jumping and barking, trying to catch Jake off guard. Secretly, I think he's trying to give him a heart attack. I'd feel awful if that happened, so I'm going to pretend I didn't say that. Anyway, today was different.

Lance and I started down the sidewalk like any other day. He saw his foe and began his stalking moves. Ears up. High stepping all the way. Jake had his back to us walking his yard. Perfect! Lance begins to pick up his steps. I prepare for my arm to be pulled out of its socket. And then it happens. Something I don't remember ever seeing, but I'm sure it happens every day. Jake squats to take a dump. And Lance pauses. Out of respect or out of awe (it was a BIG pile!), I couldn't say. But he stopped dead in his tracks and just waited. And waited. And waited. It seemed like an eternity, but I'm sure it was only 5-10 seconds. However long it was, it was too long for Lance. He just turned and headed the other way. Jake never saw us. Maybe he pushed so hard he blinded himself. Whatever it was, there was no barking today.

But at least Jake will live to bark another day.