Nation, even though I no longer enjoy my long languishing mid-day walks with Sir Norbear, his family has continued to regale us with stories of his antics, which I will continue to post. Here is one of the lastest.
Blinded by … Droopy Eyes?
Nobert, the Scardy Dog
(from N’s pack leader)
We started by walking past the home of what can vary from 3 to 6 pug dogs. It’s a really old man with statues of pugs on the grass and probably the remains of former pugs under it. These dogs “run” to the gate, snuffling and wheezing and gasping while barking. Apparently they were a little tired this morning, as they didn’t bark till they got right up to the gate, which, as you can imagine, surprised Mr. “I-only-use-my-nose-to-anticipate-other-dogs-when-I’m-thinking-about-it-ahead-of-time.” He yelped and jumped away from them to the right, almost strangling himself on the leash. So I did the husband thing and made him walk back and forth till he calmed down. (I bet the neighbors loved the 5:45am barking!)
We walked on.
About 10 blocks later, I heard an early morning runner coming up behind us, so I moved to the left side of the sidewalk, shortening the leash, and making space to be passed. Turns out, Norbert is also Mr. “I-only-use-my-ears-to-listen-for-runners-when-I’m-thinking-about-it-ahead-of-time.” As we were passed by a really short, really REALLY skinny woman, he was again taken by surprised, and jumped back into me, causing me to stomp on what felt like all 4 of his feet, which were underneath me. I’d bet money that Norbert weighed more than she did, but then again he definitely weighs more than the 3 pugs put together.
We walked on.
Several blocks later, we were on Fern Street by Walter Reed, where the crazy Marylanders vie for the best parking spaces as close as they can get to the WR entrances. As we rounded the corner from Alaska, the car parked closest to the corner on Fern, which was a big old Land Rover, gave a loud crunching lurch, apparently for no reason at all. Believe it or not, Norbert is also part horse, and he tends to get spooked easily when things move loudly for apparently no reason. So this time, he stopped short and growled long and loud, with no interest in getting any closer to this loud crunching thing. I was also surprised, and looked up to see a small Honda FIT that had been trying so hard to squeeze into the spot in front of the LR, that it had rubbed its side along the LR’s front corner, likely causing more damage to itself than the SUV, all of which was apparently due to insufficient coffee, as the space in front of the LR stretched 1/2 the length of the block. Norbert took a whole minute to convince that this car was not a threat to us, before he would continue on.
And then (yes, there is more), as we walked up Dahlia towards Takoma School, against the tide of commuters walking to Walter Reed from the Metro, Norbert spotted someone walking 2 dogs ahead of us. They were also heading past the school, so Norbear was straining forward to get closer to them, which caused a couple of the passers-by to divert into the street. He can be very intimidating when you think he is straining on his leash to get to you. They didn’t realize how dog-focused he is. Anyway, when we got to the field, I saw one of the 2 GIGANTIC German Shepherds (far heavier than my svelte little guy) streaking across the school field to get the ball his woman had just thrown. She saw us and lunged for the leashes, while Norbert happily trotted over toward the 8 ft high chain link fence around the field. Her dog looked up, and suddenly both giant Germans were charging full tilt across the field, barking their loud German Shepherdy barks. As you can imagine, Norbert was expecting a friendly “hey-how-ya-doing? wanna-sniff-our-butts” type of greeting, not “if-I-catch-you-I-will-eat-you” greeting. This time, his sideways jump into me had the effect you usually only see on football highlight films. His side hit the side of my legs and I sort of jumped (thus avoiding the knee injury) and felt as if –but didn’t happen– it coulda been one of those moves where the running back with the ball gets hit in the knees as he is in mid-air going over the pile, causing him to spin like a helicopter blade. Instead, I landed in a stumble, almost tripping on the leash, and staggered forward till I recovered my balance. My first thoughts were “yay for chain-link fences” and “I don’t have the only dog that doesn’t come when called!”
Now I am typing this at home, with Zennon yelling his head off because we came home to find that Norbert chewed a hole in Zennon’s favorite leather Indiana Jones hat. “It’s not fair!” “You don’t believe me!”. “It’s your fault!” “You’re not even punishing him!” “It’s not fair!”
A very emotional day for all.
PS: (from the author of this blog). I just realized via Animal Planet last night, that a dog’s droopy eyes (in context, the bloodhound) actually serve as “blinders” when their noses are pointed to the ground. This may very well explain why Norby can be jumpy if his nose is attached downward — he can’t see anything around him! Further, his long ears act as “sweepers” collecting audible data as well.
