Dog Walker

From email sent September 21, 2003

I have a new project. It suddenly registered with me how sedentary my life had become. I decided that retirement was making me far too lazy. I did my regular morning exercises, but aside from normal errands, that was the extent of my activity. I always have hated walking for its own sake. Furthermore, I worry about street crime. It occurred to me that I could kill the proverbial two birds by taking two of our three dogs for walks. I doubt that the most reckless Belizean would attack me while attached by leash to a large Rotweiller-German Shepherd-Wolf (Missy) or a Doberman (Raven). So I decided to give the dogs a refresher course in heeling.

Raven, who is not that far from her early training, caught on quickly. She is a delight. We go out the garage door and walk the extent of the sidewalk, which takes us almost to the Fort George. She heels beautifully. Today for the first time, she saw a dog on the other side of the street, but a gentle correction brought her back to her normal heeling. There was a celebration in the park when we walked by today. She passed police, Belize Defense Force, and other people without breaking stride. I was delighted with her.

Missy nearly had a fit when I took Raven out the first time. I had to work with Missy in the house a couple of times to remind her about heeling. Two days ago, I gave her a test outdoors. We managed to get around the corner to our front gate before she was pulling steadily. I turned her around, and she heeled nicely back to the garage door. Each time we go out, we go a little farther before she decides to do things her way. And she always is perfect on the walk home. Before long, it should register with her that as soon as she stops heeling, we turn around and go home. I must say, though, she thinks she has done a beautiful job and is obviously proud of herself.

Poor Shadow is crushed. I brought him into the house yesterday and worked with him on heeling. He caught on, finally, and did reasonably well. I will continue with his training. However, I don’t trust him. He is too strong for me, and I am afraid he would drag me down the street like one of those characters in a comic strip.

Day after day, Shadow runs up and down along the fence howling the entire time I am out with one dog or the other. He is heartbroken at being excluded.

 

From email sent November 16, 2003

The dogs finally got their walks yesterday after days of intermittent rain. For the first time in ages, the water pooled in the park had dissipated so I was able to take them along the walks intersecting it. Raven was pleased, Missy was ecstatic. Even Old Kate was relieved to do something other than the usual up-to-the-end-of-the-sidewalk and back.

 

From email sent January 20, 2004

Shadow has been inconsolable when I take the other two dogs for their walks. María says that Sunday her brother Elmer was so upset by Shadow’s howling that he begged to be allowed to take him out. Permission denied.

Yesterday afternoon I kept Shadow in after lunch, put the choke chain and leash on him, and walked him around the house, repeating “heel, heel, heel” endlessly. I could not be sure that he figured it all out.

You know the old saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

’Tain’t so.

This morning when I finished walking Raven and Missy, I let Shadow into the garage and put the collar and leash on him. We did a little practice circling the cement. Then I decided what-the-h, being dragged through the streets isn’t such a bad way to go.

I took Shadow out and started down the block repeating my “heel” mantra. He pulled, but not unduly. I kept him on a very short leash, right beside me, and continued to talk to him. We turned back at the edge of our lot. Twice on the way back to the house, Shadow actually let the leash fall loose, as it should. I praised him enormously, of course, each time. He seemed perfectly happy to return. My effusive praise continued.

After lunch today I did the same training routine through the house. This time, Shadow let the leash fall slack most of the time. I think he got it, I really think he got it. Can’t wait for tomorrow’s run (and I use that word poetically, not factually). My only problem now is deciding in which order I take the dogs out. I think I will try Raven – Shadow – Missy and see how that works.

 

From email sent February 1, 2004

As a survivor of two recent topplings by Shadow, I can assure you that I fall gracefully and without damage to aged self. The first fall was Shadow’s fault when he darted in front of me. The second was my fault. He was walking innocently along when I hooked an ankle on one of his long, gangly legs.

Yesterday, Shadow suddenly realized that it was self-defeating to pull at the leash in excitement as we started our walk. He now heels quite reliably for the full stroll through the park. I praise him inordinately, of course, throughout the walk. Shadow’s happiness and pride in his achievement are a delight to see. Most of the time I barely realize I have a dog at the other end of the leash. Nonetheless, I stay very alert while I am walking Shadow, just-in-case.

I get an enormous amount of pleasure—along with the exercise—walking the dogs. The private time with each of them is a delight. It is far more satisfactory now that Shadow is not left to grieve loudly alone.

 

From email sent February 20, 2004

Each day’s walk with Shadow has become longer as I gained confidence in my control over eighty pounds of dog.

Today I was in the middle of my dog-walking, with Shadow heeling nicely beside me on the sidewalk alongside the park. Suddenly a tall, rangy, very black, bearded man appeared in front of me and grabbed my upper arm so hard it made bruises. He was scowling and talking rapidly but unintelligibly. I bellowed at him to let me go in a voiced disciplined to reach the back row of a theater. The man drop his hand, possibly more scared of me than I was of him. My great watch dog, meanwhile, was cowering at my feet. I walked quickly around my attacker, Shadow happily at the heel, and continued toward home as quickly as I considered safe. The man did not follow me.

You remember my saying that I couldn’t imagine anyone attacking me while I had one of the dogs by my side. Guess who miscalculated!

I came home, told Alex, and bravely went out again with Missy. This time I was watching for the man. When we reached the corner I could see him sitting on the steps to the grandstand. I took Missy into the park, but stayed on the northern walk, well away from him.

I told my housekeeper, Jean, and cook, Betty, about my “incident.” Without my knowledge, they walked up to the park to see if they could identify the man. They did. They referred to him as “El Loco.” The reason he looked familiar was that he wanders around the area with a trash bag, scavenging. They asked the security guard at the Taiwanese Embassy if he had seen the incident. He said he had not, but was very concerned. He and I have become casual friends as I walk past with one dog after the other, day after day. He agreed that the man was crazy and probably lived under the grandstand.

I suspect I am less, rather than more, reassured to hear that the man is loco.

I telephoned the police and made a report, emphasizing that I had not been hurt. The main reason for the police to look into the matter is the safety of all the tourists who wander through the park or up the street when the cruise ships are in.

The policewoman asked if I had notified the Tourist Police. I told her that I hadn’t seen one around here for ages. She was horrified. I begged her not to let them know who had reported their absence, and she laughingly assured me that she would not. The police are very concerned with the welfare of tourists, so I feel quite sure that they will follow this up.

I see people sitting on the steps of the grandstand from time to time, but my usual track is not near them. Usually they are young men or women, and we wave back and forth as I start back home on the sidewalk past the grandstand. I do not remember ever having seen this man in the park before, but you’d better believe I will be watching in the future. I doubt that I was in any danger, but it was scary.

At least I am not vegetating in my Declining Years.

 

From email sent February 21, 2004

I feel fairly sure that the police will move my “friend” away from the park. Tourism is big business now, and the authorities are doing everything possible to facilitate and protect visitors. In the first place, after my report and the way it was received, I am sure that the Tourist Police will come back to this area. That will be a big help. We used to have an officer stationed at our corner. He disappeared as construction on the boulevard advanced.

As for a companion on my walks, I have the dogs. I think I did poor, dear Shadow an injustice in my report yesterday. Everything happened so quickly that I did not see him when the man grabbed me. I strongly suspect it was my bellow that made Shadow cringe. He was useless as a guard dog, but may not have appeared so at the critical moment. No one in his right mind would get near me when I have one of the dogs. It took a “loco.” And I don’t think he will be around.

I shall be especially alert, although I thought I already was. This man obviously came out of the park through the entrance near the grandstand as we passed. Until now, there has not been a threatening person in the park. Most of the time no one is there. Occasionally one or two people are sitting on a bench. Quite often, a young man or man and girl are at the front of the park sitting on the grandstand steps facing the sea. Children ride bikes in the park once in a while. The cleaning crew cuts grass and sweeps up. I recognize most of them and wave or exchange a few words. For the most part, the park is a benign place.

These walks mean a lot to the dogs and to me. It will take a lot to make me stop them.

 

From email sent December 30, 2004

You may remember that, after long consideration of its tackiness, I ordered a Santa outfit for one of the dogs several years ago. I tried it on Missy, and she was ecstatic. She adores it and makes certain that the other two dogs respect her position in the family society.

Christmas afternoon, I took the dogs out for their walks and dressed each of them, in turn, in the Santa outfit. They all accepted it happily and caused pleasant commotion among passersby.