Dada and Sam inside El Paso Saddle Blanket.Because of that, I've often contemplated rigging a handle to Sam's harness, much like a seeing-eye dog's. That wouldn't be difficult. Then, wearing a pair of dark shades, I could pretend to be vision-impaired. There'd be no denying Sam access to all the places I go, save for one minor detail. Being hopelessly untrained, it would be the blind leading the blind. Sam would slam me into clothing racks or drag me after little children he loves to meet. Or worse, causing a scene with a wooden "Indian." I'll explain.
El Paso Saddle Blanket is a very large import store locally that is dog friendly. It's a place we can go without role playing. Because of this, and an invitation extended us by a friend who was exhibiting as one of the guest artists the Saddle Blanket features each Saturday, I decided it would be an excellent chance for Sam to hone his social skills.
After about an hour of visiting with various artists displaying this day, I was very proud of Sam. He had handled himself perfectly among strangers, even the other dogs who happened to be there. I was getting very relaxed about his public demeanor. But then it happened.
While visiting a painter we hadn't yet spoken with, Sam suddenly went bananas. Straining at the end of his leash, he was barking ferociously causing everyone to stop and stare.
What Sam had discovered was a wooden "Indian" about four feet tall, watching him from behind a stack of merchandise.Obviously, Sam didn't like stealthy Indians "mad dogging" him.
Unrelenting in his protest, I had no choice but to suggest we go outside for a walk. Maybe Sam could use some fresh air. Maybe take a pee.
It was during our exit that Sam then discovered the store was full of wooden Indians watching him! Because of his excitement upon entering the store, the Indians had escaped his notice. But now, having seen one, he was seeing them all, leaving Sam feeling surrounded amidst a pow-wow. Sam's boisterous reactions made it easy for customers to follow our progress towards the exit door.
Once outside, Sam reclaimed his composure. After a few minutes of walking around, Sam relieved himself then stood there, looking up at me, waiting.
"No, Sam, there are rules," I said. "There are some things you don't do and some I don't do. Like, you don't pee in the store and I don't pee out here," I explained, looking up to see the sideways glance of a mother quickly leading her two small children past us. Our glances collided mid-air in a collision from which there would be no survivors.
As Sam and I prepared to reunite with Mrs. Dada inside the store, I reminded: "Now, don't forget. No peeing in the store."
"Oh, and Sam? No barking at the wooden Indians either."
10 comments:
crazy dog.... that carving does have a haunting stare.... probably spooked him.
You two make a fine looking pair... it's no wonder Sam went off on that 4' wooden (Ysleta? Apache?) warrior - it might only be a few inches taller than him. He probably thought it was crouching and preparing to sprig on him! ;->
If, as you've intimated previously, you do end up residing under the overpass, you might consider amending your strict rules and have that venerable pro Sam start teaching you the fine, ancient art of peeing out of doors (most probably downhill from the abutment domicile.)
You may also wish to time your pre-move walk-thru somewhat after mid december if the linguistically oriented quake predictions of Mr Ure etal (FEMA Fears anyone?) do shake out...
Stay safe!
Thank you Dada, for that fantastic MEC(WNoML)EMoaBSWToFR Award you so graciously bestowed earlier upon this blogless link-happy intinerant. I am honored.
Namaste
Is it really still shorts weather in El Paso?
Fran: Yes, the "Indians" really set Sam off. But upon re-entering the store, Sam managed to keep it to a low, subtle, throaty growl. Much better than his ballistic barking before.
Oh, and another note. Looking at the picture of the two of us together, I've learned to never go out in public with Sam whilst I'm wearing a white shirt. He makes it look dingy thus revealing to all, I'm obviously using a cheap detergent.
abol: Thanks for the excellent advice. And, yeh, those were some pretty spooky looking wooden Native Americans. (Tribal affiliations undecided.) I totally understand Sam's reaction.
And you know? I either love my family and am concerned for their safety, or I'm a damn fool. I've been passing along Ure's quake prediction to my folks in Oregon. (I can just imagine their eyes rolling back in their heads at another of Dada's "heard it thru the grapevine" predictions.)
If they'd just learn to take me with a grain of salt, like a Chinese restaurant post chow mein fortune cookie.
Note to other readers here: One of the things I enjoy about abol's comments is the esoterica with which they come richly seasoned.
I suspect he's speaking from a place of enlightenment. Either that, or that last paragraph is laden with code only the NSA can decipher. So, if you didn't understand it, don't feel too alone. (Ahem, ahem, any help with that would be greatly appreciated.)
One final note. Paying an occasional visit to ABOL's new blog sight is like watching an expectant mother grow larger and larger, waiting for her to birth, way beyond her predicted delivery date.
Maybe she's not pregnant. Maybe it won't happen? Just like Ure's December earthquake? (Any eyes rolling?)
K. Meyer: How about it K.Meyer? You've met A Ball of Light, you understand any of his last paragraph?
As you know, El Paso -- being 40 miles further south than Las Cruces is the best kept secret from all those snowbirds in Minnesota, WI and N.D. (Let 'em keep going to Phoenix, Tucson and Las Cruces.)
Yes, it's still shorts weather in El Paso. (Actually, there are winter days I freeze my whatever off, but I learned from research conducted at Stanford some years ago, it's healthier and one is less apt to catch a cold by wearing shorts and T-shirts all winter for those short sprints between the warm car and the overly warm store than to be overdressed in the store with long sleeves, coats, etc. and then go out to your waiting car out in the lot whilst wringing wet from being overdressed during shopping.
Of course, that, and the fact El Paso is STILL more tropical, being 40 miles further south than Las Cruces. (Shhh, don't tell the folks in Northern Michigan, ok?)
[Oh, and "p.s." -- I just made up the Stanford research part.]
Dada don't read more into that acronym i used -instead of typing out that long name of the award that you so recently gave to me- than there is.. think (or click) back to your friday post, my friend (please don't make me type either one of them again... please)
Hi k.meyer! That was my exactly my thought when i saw that picture too! gmta (sorry... TXTing is harmful to your fully spelled outword/phrase formation)
oh and dada... growing up in LC and trying to get into the ski lift lines in Cloudcroft & Ruidoso overrun with those from the south of us i came to believe snowbird to be a pejorative term referring to them what talked with a twang... and after 8 years of hearing der boosh's phony affectation of said twang i still find myself, when inadvertently using that word (texan not snowbird), filling it with derision. i better go now before no one shakes my hand...
btw Sunjata's mother carried him for 8 years... don't be holding yer breath
I think Sam is showing his excellent brains. Most dogs wouldn't give a non-toy inanimate object a second look. Sadly, it reminds me of our recently deceased Juna who always noticed humanoid statue shapes. They freaked her out. She would stop dead in her tracks & study said object, eventually giving it a wide berth. I think it's because the shape is familiar (to those smart dogs who can see such things) but yet it doesn't move, thus causing great alarm.
I had the same thought as others about you still wearing shorts. Your explanation about being too warm in stores in the winter makes sense to a person such as myself who must don a coat & gloves & real shoes (not sandals) to go shopping in the summer heat.
Hey, I didn't know BoL had finally set up a blog! I also never considered "snowbird" to be pejorative. My favorite snowbirds were all the canadians who came to Palm Springs every winter. But don't worry, I won't tell them they could keep driving on past Phoenix & on to E.P. We get those winter escapees here, too, on their way to vegas ... but they must be disappointed if they stay overnight (tonight will be 39-degrees, brrrr).
ABOL: Thanks for solving the mystery of the "MEC(WNoML)EMoaBSWToFR Award" in your penultimate comment (whew, I'm greatly relieved). I know I had boiled it down to an "either-or" world in what it possibly could mean and I'm not usually not as simple as that, as our president.
So for those who haven't a clue what the hell we're talking about, the award ABOL referred to was:
"Most Enlightening Comment (With Nine or More Links) Ever Made on a Blog Site With Ten or Fewer Readers" Award. That award.
Meanwhile, I am still in awe that you're typing comments to blogs on your Blackberry, iPod, PoddenBerry, or whatever?
deke: Palm Springs has always been a conundrum to me. I can't explain it. (Maybe that explains it?) But thanks for saving El Paso's secret.
I often check St. George's temps when checking our own. They SORTA echo each other's like Phobos and Deimos, save for their differences.
But after I die, I plan on spending a day or two kicking back on Deimos and observing Mars which will appear a 1,000 times larger and 400 times brighter than our Moon is to us on Earth. (Wow, talk about a full "moon!")
I wonder if ABOL's blog will have birthed by then? If so, I'll probably spend some time, too, reading it!
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