Parents all worry about how well they’re raising their kids; how they will behave; what kind of people they will grow up to be. Well, tonight I discovered a sad truth about our youngest daughter, Sunny. She likes to hang out in gutters. You heard me. Gutters! Oh, the shame of it all!
Sunny is a cat, in case you didn’t know. She was apparently hanging out down the street and around the corner from our house when the pugs and I walked by tonight. I wasn’t aware she ever wandered that far from home. When she spotted us, she came trotting (way too slowly) across the street toward us. I had stopped to let her catch up when a car came along. I called to her repeatedly to come to me and get out of the street. She didn’t. The car was then upon us and Sunny was still in the street, though at least mostly out of the way.
She wasn’t going to do what I said, no matter what, so I just watched to see how she handled an oncoming car. Was she smart enough to get out of the way? Was she going to be killed right in front of me?
She decided to get killed, apparently, because she bolted back out into the middle of the street. Luckily, the car wanted to turn into the driveway where I was crouching with the pugs, so there was no way he was going to hit Sunny. I did have to drag the pugs out of the way, though.
Out of harm’s way now, I crouched down and again called to the cat. She came back over … mostly. Just like a cat. She was now directly in front of the storm drain. Daisy, already in the habit of trying to kill Sunny every time the cat goes through the cat door, then growled and lunged at her. Naturally, Sunny took cover down into the drain. I’m now thinking I’ll have to fish her out of there … after the dogs’ walk.
On the walks, each dog has his own routine. Chandler, the black one and our oldest, almost always walks behind and to the left. He must’ve been an Asian courtesan in a past life. Daisy and Joey are usually tugging on the leashes, with Daisy on Joey’s left. After Joey has stopped to sniff something, he will usually try and circle around from behind and wrap me up in his leash. I caught on to him early on, though, so he almost never trips me up.
Chandler or Joey will almost always be the first one to poop. Daisy likes to wait as long as possible, usually only giving in and doing that particular function on the way back. By the time we were on our way back tonight, Sunny was once again above ground but still crisscrossing the street. I hope I don’t have to scrape her carcass off the street someday, but there’s no way we can keep her strictly inside now. We’ll just have to take our chances.
See also walking_the_dogs