May 10, 2008
A bad walk and a remark.
Took the small dog, Moky, on a walk with my youngest. Thought it might be fun to walk through the seaside park at twilight. Forgot that Moky thinks all car trips mean he is going to the vet. He whined horribly all the way there when he didn't make himself gasp for breath, gag, and then whine/gasp some more. Once at park, a large loose dog (no owner in sight) dashes past us after a rabbit that was about the size of Moky. Small dog flips out. Does circus leaps to be lifted up and wraps leash around my ankles. Small boy goes into a quiet panic mode, convinced the large dog will tire of rabbit chasing and hunt for us. I try to jolly everyone up through the park when I realize night is falling more quickly than I had thought and I can no longer see that well. Small boy afraid of dark. Dog whining incessantly. Passing people walking very pleasant and calm dogs give us looks. I am now secretly on large dog alert myself and fully irritated with both small boy and Moky mainly since they are worried about the same thing I am worried about, but I am trying to pretend all is well. Apparently badly since son and dog are not buying my act. By the time we reach the car, I am snapping at both of them for hanging on to me like limpets. Dog whines all the way home. Son suspiciously silent. Safely home, we find the husband in a nostalgic mood looking at photos. He regales son with story of a childhood friend whose mom made the best glazed doughnuts he ever had. My son looks at me and says "You should learn to make glazed doughnuts. People would like you more."