Two Wraps and Hooie

About two miles from our house, there is a nice pond. The trail behind our house meanders through a community park, and we often walk our dogs along this path to the pond and back. On a warm morning, one Saturday last spring, my wife, our two Weimaraners, Klaus and Zander, and I headed toward the pond.

I was still healing from a crash on the hi-wheeled bike. Both my hands protected my face during a fall off the bike, and both wrists were a bit gimpy. With 80 pounds of joyful dog on a thirty-foot leash, I had my hands full. Sensing that I was not completely in control, Zander pulled and tugged and made the walk uncomfortable. He was not his usual well-behaved self. The walk started as a pain in the "wrist". I was a grump!

With Peggy and Klaus in the lead, Zander and I trailed behind. Each of us was trying to control the other. After what seemed like forever, we made it to the steep bank of the pond. As we topped the crest, a duck waddled out from under a willow tree, saw Zander and headed toward the safety of open water. Zander lurched, and I toppled head-over-heels down the slope. Thinking that I would be dragged into the pond, I let go of the leash -- late. I stopped my head-long plunge just at the water's edge and just in time to witness an insolent duck quack at the mastery of his escape, only to be surprised that the dog was swimming only a tail feather away.

I picked myself up. Mud and duck poop dripped off my clothes. The duck was already halfway across the pond. Zander was in hot pursuit. I scanned the pond's edge looking for the best place to recover Zander. To my surprise, there was a kid's catch-and-release fishing derby in progress. In my tormented state, I imagined that the kids were cheering for the duck, while the dads were hoping (betting) that the dog would catch the duck. With muck dripping from a shirt-sleeve, I chose a direction and ran around the pond to intercept Zander. Zander and I reached the far edge of the pond at about the same time. He was startled by seeing me and ran through a family, startled by the action at their feet. To save a small child from possible injury by the trailing leash, I aimed a flying tackle in the general direction of Zander. I missed the dog but caught the middle of his leash. I clenched my fists and held fast. Zander ran around me twice. Spying another duck, he headed back toward the pond. The dog must have gone between my legs, because the next thing I knew I was down on the ground with arms tied to my ankles. Two wraps and a hooie -- I was roped like a calf at a rodeo.

A neighbor ran over, leaned down at face level and told me that what he had just seen was the funniest thing he had seen in a long time. Peggy ran over and in the calmest voice she could muster said, "Did you know you have grass stain on your shorts?"

I know that across the neighborhood, dinnertime conversations were brimming with the re-telling of the story of the old guy, his dog, and a duck. You can rest assured there was little talk of the fish that got away.