Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Jasper's Free Time
Jasper's
Free Time
By
Phoenix
Hocking
“Waaaait...”
I say. “Waaait...” Jasper is quivering with excitement. He's
not pulling at the leash, though; he knows better. I reach down and
unhook the leash from his harness. “Okay, go!” And he's off,
flying like the wind down the dusty road next to the field.
It's a
relatively cool morning, all things considered. It is the middle of
summer and the past week has been brutal with heat. We've not been
out for days and my boy is full of pent-up energy.
To my
left the field is naught but dirt. Once it was an orchard, plums if
I remember correctly. But for some unknown reason, the farmer has
ripped up all the trees and now the land simply bakes a dark brown in
the summer sun.
To my
right the field is eye-high weeds to start, then becomes yellow
stubble pocked with green weeds. This road follows the field for a
straight stretch, then becomes a path around the bare field to the
left and the yellow field to the right. A dry creek follows the
path, and when we are lucky enough to find water there, Jasper will
jump right in, drinking the water as he swims.
This is
Jasper's free time. Most of the time, depending on what other dogs
are walking the field at the same time, he can be off-leash for most
of the way. It's his favorite place around here to go. When we
lived in Cambria, he could be off-leash at the Fiscallini Ranch
Preserve. In Arkansas he didn't know what a leash was, often roaming
the countryside for miles to hunt or visit friends.
But
today, we have the field to ourselves and he is making the most of
it. He runs with total abandon, sometimes coming to a screeching
halt to turn around and sniff at something that has caught his
attention.
Jasper
is foremostly a Beagle, mixed with a good dose of Jack Russell
Terrier and a hint of Collie. I don't see the Collie myself, but his
previous owners assure me it's there. If anything, the Collie comes
out in his temperament, because he's a mellow dog, friendly and
surprisingly quiet.
Jasper shoots off into the field and squats to do his business. If
he goes anywhere near the path, I pick it up, but when he goes off
into the field, I don't bother. After all, 1)
it's a snake hideout and 2) by the time I get to that location I'll
never find it in the brush. He finishes, covers up the steam,
and runs on ahead, scouting for squirrels.
Sure
enough, about half a block ahead, a group of three, no . . . four
squirrels run across the road and Jasper is quickly in hot pursuit.
I think he knows he has no chance of catching them, but the joy is in
the chase and he chases for all he's worth. He is a hunter, after
all. He follows his prey to a large pile of dead wood the farmer has
pulled up from the old orchard. It is now home to squirrels and
rabbits and God knows what else. Jasper noses around for a while,
then heads down the path to the right, our usual way.
There
are no other dogs in the field today, so he has the place to himself.
Generally, he knows and likes most of the other dogs he meets on our
walks around the field. He's not fond of the “bully” breeds,
though, and when we see one coming I leash him up. No sense in
taking chances. But today, there is nobody here but my dog and me,
and we're enjoying the cool morning.
We reach
the three-quarter place, which is the spot where I usually leash him
up. The path alongside the fence is home to a number of squirrels
that are just too close to the path for comfort. And the other side
of the fence is known as “Rattlesnake Heaven” and I have no wish
to try and go fetch him if he goes off on a merry chase through that
place.
But
today, for a change, we turn around and go back in the direction from
which we came. Yes, it will be longer, but I want Jasper to be able
to drink a little longer from freedom's cup. and he takes full
advantage of the opportunity to run ahead.
He
stops, lifts a paw, and waits for me. “What's the matter, boy?”
I ask, “Got a sticker?”
I feel
on his pad, remove the sticker from his paw and he's off again,
stopping occasionally to lift a paw like a Retriever and point at
something that catches his focus. He leaves another small steaming
present in a pile of leaves, covers and goes on.
We're on
the main road again and he's starting to slow down. He's out in the
field, but every so often he'll turn around, find me, and then
continue on. As we come closer to the end of the road, where I've
parked the car, I call out, “Wait, please.” He doesn't stop on a
dime, but waits for me in that general area until I reach him and put the leash back on his harness.
We walk
the rest of the way, Jasper panting slightly. I open the car door.
“Up,” I say, and he climbs into the front seat. “Over,” I
say, and he gets into his place on the passenger side. “Good boy!”
I get
the red plastic bowl from the backseat and squirt some water into it.
He drinks it all, and then sits in his place, smiling as only a
truly happy dog can smile. It's been a good morning.
End
# posted by Phoenix MaryGrace Hocking : 1:31 PM
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