Flying Poodles

What does it take to wear out a poodle? (part 2)

Took the dogs to Sandy River Delta Park today. It is now firmly established that I should either stick to established paths or unreel a string behind me when I go places. I got lost again. Well, I wasn’t lost, as much as I couldn’t get where I wanted to go from where I was. I took a more southerly path than usual–a nice dirt path–and ended up at the river. I thought I’d walk along the river and take my usual path back to the car. I couldn’t find the path. I went up the bluff with great difficulty THREE DIFFERENT TIMES and all three times I ended up enmeshed in a blackberry patch. I have the scratches and torn clothes to prove it. The blackberries were so thick the dogs were following me and complaining about it.

Finally–after TWO HOURS of walking–I gave up and walked back to the path I came in on… and couldn’t find that path either. I nearly cried from sheer joy when I saw a woman throwing a ball for her two dogs. But then she vanished and I couldn’t find HER path either.

Elly saved the day. She looked back at me, and then RAN up one path. Damned if the girl wasn’t right. It still took another fifteen minutes of creating a path through waist-high grass (thankfully NOT blackberries) to get back to the right path. Fortunately at that point I could see where the path was going to be–because I could see the enormous towers holding the high tension electricity wires. Hard to miss those.

So THREE HOURS (well… 2 hours and 48 minutes) late I got back to the car. About a hundred yards from the car I put the girls back on leash.

Now, when Elly was a puppy, people kept telling me that the key to having Elly not pull on leash was to tire her out first. Before today I never managed to tire her out that much. She walked those hundred yards so nicely, with a nice slack leash, that it was like a different dog.

Not a method I plan to use often.