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It
was a long time before I conceded that chaining my dog in the back was the
right thing to do. It was about the time I quit speeding, chewing
Copenhagen and started taking an aspirin a day. As the loss of my
individual freedoms began piling up, I felt less need to let my dog enjoy
one of his favorite things, riding unfettered in the back of the pickup.
Bernie,
too, had faced the same decisions to do what is begrudgingly safer, but
usually not as much fun. In his case, he lets his good cowdog, Boomer,
ride in the front of the cab with him. Boomer liked it as long as he could
have his window down far enough to hang out his head.
One
fine New Mexico morning they were driving down the Dexter highway, Bernie
on the cell phone and Boomer taking in the scenery. Traffic was busy and
Bernie was smack dab in the middle of a verbal therapy session with his
banker. Suddenly the cab filled with a blizzard of old receipts, magazine
scraps, ear tags, Maalox pills and a roll of survey tape!
His
first thought was that Boomer had hit the electric window all the way open
at 45 mph! But no, Boomer’s hindquarters from the neck down was a
furious flailing of limbs scattering everything on the seat and dashboard
into the air! He realized immediately that Boomer had stepped on
the electric window button, but he had closed it on his neck!
Bernie
fought for control of the vehicle, the cell phone and the mad dog amidst
the hurricane of trash that filled the air! Then, Boomer lost control of
his bowels. Digested dog chow, in several stages of viscosity joined the
airborne contents in the dog blender.
Swerving
onto the shoulder, Bernie jumped out, raced around and jerked open the
door! Boomer was still attached and smacked him on the face! As Boomer
dangled momentarily, a passing motorist screamed "Dog abuser!"
and made an obscene gesture.
Well,
Boomer got saved and Bernie now chains him in the back. He bought a gross
of air fresheners to hang on the rearview mirror that smell like cooking
broccoli, and he is a changed man. Kinder and gentler, but more practical.
Yet,
the profound question that lingers in his mind every time he climbs into
the pickup is, ‘Why didn’t I lower the window from the driver’s
side?’ Maybe it was some deep man-animal bonding conflict, or perhaps
simply his vision was blurred.
Baxter
Black is a former large animal veterinarian who can be followed nationwide
through this column, National Public Radio, public appearances, television
and also through his books, cds, videos and website, www.baxterblack.com.
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