“Want me to take her?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied….and then we muffed the leash hand off.
With complete disregard for her doctor’s orders, she was spayed last Wednesday, Henrietta took off—0 to 25 mph in under ten seconds. She did not look back. Our voices carried on the wind but were weightless on Henrietta’s mind.
We were walking the asphalt in Muskego County Park. 55 mile per hour Janesville Road was within sight.
South bound and down, loaded up and truckin’
In seconds, our peaceful Sunday afternoon walk turned into mayhem.
Black streak.
Boots conquering snowbanks.
Hollering.
Hearts pounding from exertion and fear.
My husband and I split hoping the rocket might turn at the park office building and one of us might be able to catch her.
Rounding the corner by the office’s front door I saw Henri. She’d stopped in a small clearing. For reasons I’ll never know, she looked at me in recognition and bounded over.
I leashed her and did not scold.
When my husband caught up, I hugged him and laughed until my sides hurt.
We averted crisis.
To be honest, maybe a year ago my reaction might have been quite different.
As I’ve come to learn, nothing in life is really under my control so I grab joy wherever I can find it.
In truck on the way home he asked, “Did we mess up somewhere with her?”
“I don’t think so……exuberance is Henrietta’s default setting. We’re challenged to balance her training with who she is….and I don’t think it’s going to be easy.”
Yesterday I was reminded of one of the first pieces I ever wrote—The Theory of Building Walls.
What walls are you working on?
One brick at a time…..
The Theory of Building Walls is still one of my favorite pieces that you wrote.