A Young Guy Hiked Up the Trail

A young guy hiked up the trail

with two dogs on a leash –

a four-year-old, lame lab/something or other

mutt with a sadly, gimpy paw from

 

when he encountered a car two years ago

and a six-year-old pit bull/chow/few more

breeds who was roll over sweet. The lame lab

would stare a dog down not to mention me.

 

I wondered if it was anger for the gimpy paw.

After all, labs are mostly sweet. We were trying to

get our old lab to move off trail to do his business after

consuming, in grand fashion, a scientifically

 

approved dry dog food adorned with a saucy,

beefy broth and cubed tomatoes

au naturel-al with a cut up “Beggin Strip” just to catch

his attention.  He didn’t cooperate.

 

Proudly, I told the young guy with the gimpy

dog and roll over, mean looking mutt that

our ancient lab, the fussy one about food

and when and where he takes a shit,

 

which I didn’t mention, ran, well really jogged

really, really slowly I thought to myself, twenty-one today.

We put him in the condo and finished thirty-five. “Thirty-five miles!”

he exclaimed. I looked at my wife and uttered quietly,

 

“No, thirty-five minutes. Come here, Boomer.  We have to go.”

I looked back up the hill to where the young guy was still

standing still with his dogs tugging at the leashes.

He had a bedazzled look in his eyes.

 

“The dog can take a poop later.”