Washburne Historic District, Springfield

One of the good things about having a dog is that you don’t have to worry about him becoming a grown up and finding himself irritated with my enthusiasm for the banal and the way I repeat the same questions again and again on a single walk through the neighborhood. It seems inevitable, the impatience I feel for my extremely well-intentioned mother–tonight at the mercy of Ramona–that will someday boomerang back to me from E. It’s part of the great circle of life that The Lion King neglected to cover.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Still not sure what Jones thinks about E. She is a bundle of new delicious smells, so there’s that, but it’s as if he already knows she’s a core member of the pack. Because after we unstrapped the feedbag and made our tardy way into the dog park, Jones raced toward us and jumped his highest circus dog jumps to confirm she was there. Then he wouldn’t leave us despite the friendly beagle’s overtures, and kept looking up at her in L.’s arms. One slow trip around the perimeter was all I was good for, though, and the prospect of no real walks for about six weeks is a drag for all interested parties, alas.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Washburne Historic District, Springfield

A few years back when they were relevant, I read an article in one of those magazines about Sporty Spice vacationing on some tropical island. As soon as she arrived she did a vigorous workout to combat travel fatigue and jet lag. I was all, yeah right, but there were, like, pictures to prove it! It does seem counterintuitive to believe that exercising a weary body will infuse it with energy, but I just have to say that tonight when I was feeling tired and mopey and swoll’, a loop around the neighborhood perked me right up. And I even got a little upper body work done yanking Ramona away from cat poop.

Cat poop consumed: yes

 

Washburne Historic District, Springfield

Poor Jenna. She’s curious. She’s probably friendly. She has a mandate to patrol the perimeter. Her people let her hang in the yard without a collar. It’s only natural that she’d come over and check us out. This takes some time and care, so she didn’t respond immediately when her person demanded she get back in the house. We hustled past but not fast enough to mute the sounds of her cries when they punished her. Judge not lest ye be judged and everything, but come on.

Cat poop consumed: yes

 

Washburne Historic District, Springfield

The chatty kid with the yappy little black dog at the corner of 10th and F was out in the yard with his friend eating popsicles. Is that dog part bagel? the friend asked, pointing at Jones. Yes, he’s part beagle (subtle correction to help the earnest young person learn the appropriate names for things). Good call, I said loudly over the hysterical chihuahua. Not to be outdone, Mr. Chatty attempted to plumb the depths of the universe’s most mysterious secrets and pointed at Ramona: What’s that other one? I think it’s a Cuban. Yeah, I’m pretty sure that one’s a Cuban.

Cat poop consumed: yes

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

Hey kids! Want to make some extra money? Do you like dogs? Here’s an exciting opportunity with one of the most innovative and fun places to work in Oregon. We’re hiring a select team of highly motivated kids to chase Jones at the dog park. Bonus available for making him really tired. Set your own hours! Work as much as you want! Competitive rates. Must provide own sneakers.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Willamette River Path, Springene

Jones was looking pretty hot so I pulled over to let him get a drink from the river but he wasn’t interested. I splashed his head and chassis with some cool water to help with ventilation and we continued our bike-trot. The pod of three people at the Knickerbocker Bridge looked like folks who would offer unsolicited advice along the lines of You shouldn’t be riding a bike in your condition especially with a dog in tow. Sure enough, one of the guys says, Your dog looks thirsty. You should give him some water. Yeah, thanks, pal. And your pink friend looks like he could use some sunscreen.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Downtown, Springfield

It’s the Classic Cars Cruz! In downtown Springfield! Right down Main Street! With one dog apiece, L. and I threaded our way through the sidewalks packed with folks eating snack foods in folding chairs watching the parade of el caminos, camaros, and cadillacs. One VW bus and lots of cool old trucks. They were selling rootbeer floats in front of the day spa and the Hawaiian Elvis impersonator was performing in the parking lot of the Chinese restaurant. I had to stop a few times with Ramona to do outreach, i.e., letting kids pet her. We circled back down 10th and talked about how nice it is to see people! out on the street! in Springfield!

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Autzen Dog Park, Eugene

As Kenny Rogers said, there’s someone for everyone (and Tommy’s love was Becky). So I’m glad there seem to be plenty of people who appreciate the dachshund, which is a breed whose original function–hunting rodents in their holes–has overwhelmed its form–long & low. I find them unbeautiful and inconvenient. The poor guys need stairs to get up on the couch. And they can’t move all that fast on those short legs although Jones had a fairly satisfying romp with one today. Jones did most of the running.

Cat poop consumed: no

 

Jefferson Westside neighborhood, Eugene

I forgot to bring the leashes. The dogs made it safely from the car to the house, but when O. suggested an after-dinner walk we had to punt. Fortunately Booty lent one of his extras to Jones but Ramona had to make do with L.’s belt., which turned out to be a stylish alternative. Jones was especially squirrelly in the reconfigured pack and never really settled down. I felt a certain elevated excitement myself as we strolled past kottage after kottage, each one kuter than the last, with Monroe Park nestled in the middle, and then there was Sweet Life, a treasure house of dessert delights mere minutes away.

Cat poop consumed: no