Today's puppy experience started out in the usual fashion--barking to say hello, frantic fighting to win the petting-from-Auntie-Laina and excitement over food, water and departure for the walk.
Even the walk was simple enough from the beginning. We went up the hill for a change, had a few clashes with cats (one which went successfully because the cat left and hid before we got close by and I kept telling them "no barking," one which was less successful because the cat was hidden from sight but not doggie-scent and arched its back so barking ensued). Then we walked over to the Garden only to discover it won't be open until 11 a.m., which does no good for a girl who needs coffee and dogs who want treats.
A lady in a truck was driving out of Henry's and asked if it was just me and the two of them and I talked about how it's more than twice the fun and they keep each other company and she said her one ten-month old puppy was too much for her.
Then we walked down the street and Yaz was convinced we were going to stop by our apartment to say hello to Justin, so I had to explain to her that he was not home and we had to keep going.
Then, in front of our new evil stupid neighbor's cottage all hell broke loss. She is a woman who yells when a car alarm goes off, "I'll pay someone $20 to steal that car." (so much logic in that!) She is the woman who yells for her dog to come inside, no matter what time of night it is, yells as if he might be in her acres of pastures instead of her tiny back yard right below our bedroom window. Her dog is this ancient hound dog looking thing that moves so slowly even when he scratches it looks like a movie being played in slow motion.
We were walking by this cottage of doom when the barking started. Yaz and Stan lunged for the door and somehow the leash must have been behind my legs because my feet flew out from under me and I landed on my rump. Given my bony butt, I suppose I should count myself lucky that I didn't break my tail bone, but I had an instant headache, body ache and my finger hurt. Must have been wrapped up in the leash and taken some pressure when I fell and they lunged.
The aftermath involved yelling to get the dogs away from the door and righting myself while we walked away from the scene of the crime. Disappointingly, the dogs seemed least concerned that I had taken a fall. No coming over to check on me, no licking comfort kisses anywhere (a blessing, really given the Scooby-snack Yaz mouth), no need to even slow down a bit. So we walked home, one glum girl and two oblivious self-centered dogs.
I left them to suffer the NPR membership drive for the day, no extra loving in my departure and they didn't even care.
"Bye Olaina. Your work here is done."