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.”