closing day's eye
It was almost dark when we started the
short walk back to the car.
Frankie is small enough that she would be easy
prey for a coyote, and I had managed to forget both a flashlight
and a leash back at the car; so for me it was a tense journey back.
But maybe I should have taken Frankie's nonchalance as a pretty good
sign that there were no predators about.
She is just about as good a dog as I've ever had
sweet, affectionate, attentive, and devoted but
every dog is different, and every dog has a quirk, and Frankie's is
that she won't come near you if she knows you're going to put her
in a car. And of course when we arrived back at the car she
did her usual number and kept right on walking. I wasn't
paying enough attention to notice which way she went, and I had
to spend several anxious minutes calling and hoping she would
come back at least far enough so that I could spot her and nab
her, which she eventually did.
I've tried to explain to her that it's better to suffer through a car
ride than to try to hike the hundred miles back home, but you
know how youngsters just refuse to listen to reason sometimes.