Like you may have done this past rainy weekend, I spent most of my time in the house. Sunday a good friend of mine came over and dragged me away from my chores to the wonderful outdoors. There seems to be quite a few areas near me to go for a quick hike so we picked a place and hit the trail.
It was beautiful. Quiet. Empty. That pungent forest smell. We got to what looked like one end of the trail and spotted the pumpkin spice fire hydrant, had a good laugh, took a picture and were about to turn back when I heard my friend say, ever so calmly “Julie….Julie….dog”. I turned around and saw a stunning, muscular, unneutered, unleashed doberman trotting towards us. Not in an aggressive kind a way, more like a “hey man, what’s up?” approach. My friend and I stood there while he checked us out and then made our way back on the trail, doberman now in tow.
That dog was havin’ a blast for himself! He’d speed ahead, turn around and run back and gallop off again. When we got towards the end of the trail, he was still with us (he apparently didn’t understand “go home!”). I decided it might be a good idea to find out who he belonged to because at the end of the trail is a busy street.
There was a sort of industrial building where we stopped and a man inside (who was a grouch I might add). I went in to ask him where we were so that when I called animal control, they’d know where to pick the dog up. The dog did have a collar with a tag that my friend was eventually able to read. We got a phone number and the owner was called.
Then, off in the distance, barely audible by human ear, the dog was called: “Maaaax…..Maaaaax…..Maaaaax”. Max’s ears perked up with recognition in the direction of the sound and bounded off to where ever it is he came from.
It was a great adventure for all!
