04 August 2009

The time that the fox was sighted at the pond and all the rabbits were just fine.


So I'm running the dogs around at the pond the other night, which is sort of a mix of practicing Good Dog Training by calling Ruby and Otterpop off all the cute fuzzy bunnies that are clearly insanely stupid to hop around the pond while dogs are running, and Bad Dog Training, which is watching Gustavo madly chase bunnies around with no hope of "Leave It". Sorry, dumb ass Little Thumper, but on the sunny side of the stick, be happy Ruby didn't getcha. The Good Dog Training becomes tiresome because I just spent a week with pony campers and an ex football playing, somewhat clairvoyant horse chiropractor. I can see that down by the water are a couple guys in fishing and and they're wearing fishing vests. I am pretty sure that fishing garments are code for We're not Drug Dealers Therefore Not Packing Heat so I'm not too concerned about if the dogs run amuck near them.

It's when you see the guys fishing wearing all black ensembles with a bright red ballcap that you sort of want dogs not running amuck there. Just saying. Keep your head low and keep walking on by.


There's this thing about the pond that inspires insane dog racing. It may be that it's shaped roughly like a race track. Or maybe just because when my dogs go on activity, they just do insane dog racing. I dunno. But they go racing down to the fishing vest guys.

Footnote style aside:

My dogs are naturally drawn to guys in fishing vests because I think that they've been awarded bait snacks by kindly fisherman down at the beach. If by kindly fishermen you mean shrieking Filipino guys screaming and kicking at the dogs who are snorfling around in their bait bags that they've left unattended while they're reeling in their catch of the day. Reel in or save bait? Reel in or save bait? Existential question asked by many a fisherdude except with loud screaming.

Let's not even mention the time the guy was dragging a flipping, flopping, still alive fish back to the path to the top of the beach in the surfline, I guess to prolong Moby Dick's agony and keep him fresh tasting. Natural tupperware. Tupperwave. But to my dogs, it just meant fresh tasting dog toy on a leash. Hence the loud screaming and dog kicking from rubber wader boots up to his man parts. Bad dogs.

Anyways.

So I kind of hear some commotion, but I'm sort of not really noticing it because I am appreciating wildlife and secretly hoping the commotion is perhaps caused by something other than Team Small Dog. Birds could do that. Right? Big birdsplosion and commotion ensues? The commotion is being shouted in what at first I assume is shrieking Filipino but then realize it's sort of twangy english language like you don't normal hear in our parts out here. Lahk yew don't nor-mall hee-yer en our parts out hee-yer. But louder.

So I sort of saunter runnish down there and actually Otterpop has not freaked out on anyone and isn't even near the fishing guys and Ruby hasn't eaten anyone's bait or bitten into someone's fresh caught dinner or anything. Can you eat what you catch in that pond? Toxic waster? The commotion was due to the Fox! The Fox! The black kind! I can hear this from up the hill from the little fishing spot, behind the blackberries. A black fox is running around the fishing spot and this is very exciting to our bevested fisher guys! The black fox just happens to also be wearing a red plaid dog collar from Target but in the wildness of the wildlife moment, this little cute and plaid detail goes overlooked.


The fox is likely looking for bait snack and maybe, just maybe, has chased a bunny that way so seems to be in quite a speedy little running tizzy down there. I decided best to saunter by because, HELLO! Good Dog Training and we are working on a very thin margin here with the bait eating karma. The other dogs kind of speed their way down there and 2 + 1 equals 3 and fishing vest guys figure out that the fox was actually just part of Team Small Dog and I'm just the tennis ball carrier that goes along with them.

"Is it a FOX? We thought it was a FOX!" Sort of sounds like Whey thaught ee-yit wuzzz ah FAWWWWXX!

There are perplexed and bemused and boy do they have a lot of fishing equipment for the toxic waste pond. I am a this point 100% certain they are not fishing drug dealers and hopefully someone has filled them in that they might want to give up their fishing spot should any unsavory fellas come along.


Because I watch way too much tv and this is what someone does on tv, (maybe Top Chef?) I pull my sunglasses down onto my nose, and tilt my head down. I pause dramatically, and go, "It was a fox."

And I use the power of the Good Dog Training, slap my pants, say "Come on dogs," and away we go.

2 comments:

Alaska said...

I was okay until I got to the picture of Rabbit Guy's teeth.

First blood all over the place and now this. I think it might be time to bring back the pony campers...or something.

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