Sunny Sunday outside of Atlanta was the kind of gorgeous day that makes you believe that spring is possible.Blue sky with mild temperatures and a few white fluffy clouds. It seemed that all of the neighbors that surround us were raking, mowing, digging and blowing. While I admire this activity, I am never one to follow the crowd.
I did however, bless the somewhat neglected indoors with the usual weekend chores like mopping things, dusting things, laundering things…you get the picture. But it was a blissful house blessing today. My “boys” were out and I didn’t have anyone to work around or to mess up immediately behind me. My music was loud, my windows were open. Quite possibly the best atmosphere for a tedious job.
After my gentlemen came home, I decided not to waste a lovely day indoors, we’ve had too many rainy ones last week. Our local park has a walking trail that is about 2.4 miles around a lake. With my sunshine sparkle brain it made sense that I should go for a walk. Since I was drunk with spring it seemed like a great idea to bring my six year old blondie boy. And my 5 month old super puppy, the dog of thunder, Thor.
Thor is learning to behave on a pretty short leash, and I need to leash train him now, before he needs a saddle. He is an extraordinarily smart pup, with a good temper, large feet and unapologetic and unexplained blood line.
Blondie, on the other hand, is not leash trained, he is a free range boy with a huge sense of curiosity and a mouth that never stops having some loud yelling noise coming out of it.
It seemed that the entire county came out to stretch their legs today, at least the ones who were able to escape the sirens of yardwork. Families on scooters, runners, walkers, dog walkers, every form of suburban humanity had a pilgrimage to the park today.
A man ran by us sans shirt at a pretty good clip. Blondie hollers out “Momma, that guy forgot to wear a shirt!s”. I have a difficult time keeping him on the right side of the divided line in order to keep him from getting hit by oncoming bicycles, or anyone passing us from behind. He just wants to drift to the left into oncoming human being traffic.
Super Thor, on the other hand is on my right side, trying to set pace by sniffing. And peeing. When other dogs come toward us he barks a bit to acknowledge them, but seldom veers from walking his line. Blondie now decides he wants to walk on my right and half of a mile is spent playing a game of moving “Twister”. I walked a serpentine line, so I’m convinced that I’ve added and extra ten miles from bobbing and weaving.
At the last half mile to go, our sunny, sparkly Sunday Fun-day walk turns into a death march. Blondie can’t go on much longer. His pace slows to one that I could match if I decided to finish on my hands alone. Mighty Thor slows to the pace of a geriatric slug. He starts sniffing heavily, like he is looking for a place to unload, and I realize that I forgot to bring the required plastic grocery store poop bag.
At the end of the trail is a slight hill. Heartbreak Hill for foolish women with an exhausted child (his description, not mine) and intestinally challenged canine. Somehow, we escape alive. An oasis is ahead of us, the playground, the place where the poo baggy supply resembles the Big Rock Candy Mountain, our land of milk and honey.
My son is magically revived by this vision of slides and swings and little people to play with. His formerly fatigued self breaks into a run and he disappears into his Lord of the Flies tribe. Brave Thor rests in the shade at my feet, forgetting how much he needed for me to need a baggy.
Tomorrow, my sweet, blond, young man will be hard at work in Kindergarten, learning new and interesting things, and teaching his peers how to karate chop a pencil during writing time. and finding new uses for the art class Sharpies. The weather is supposed to be today’s encore. Thor doesn’t know it yet, but he and I are headed for a walking encore of our own, hopefully I won’t forget the baggies.