In Nascar, they have the A team, full-time, consisting of the driver, crew chief, mechanics , engineer and some of them double on the pit crew on race day. Then, there is the B team, pit crew dudes and support team that works only on race day.
Well, that ain't what this is about.
It's about a 9 pound, huffin' and'a puffin', tail waggin' (if you consider a nub a tail), black and white miniature Schnauzer = Nascar.
He does though, have a propensity to correlate seeing the blue leash to race day. Pull he does, UP HILL, my 208 lb body. OK, 214 damnit.
If he hears another bark from behind a fence we're passing, he puts it in another gear and threatens my shoulder socket. Should another dog walking his owner happen on the path approaching us, it entails both hands on the leash to keep them apart.
Through it all, I kinda giggle and lend that stupid grin that I think I rolled out of the womb with. I love this hound, and I've told said girlfriend "If you ever kick me to the curb, I get visitation rights."
Said girlfriend, and I reckon me too, thought the man should walk the dog, not the other way around.
So....
To doggy obedience class we go. Now, by nature of his breed, his size, he perhaps is a little 'chirpier' than most hounds. I kinda like that about him.
He already does do some pretty cool stuff. He will fetch and return, sit, lay down, and stay, man will he stay. (I'm talking putting a treat on the floor, announcing "stay" (he does) as we binge watch an entire season of a Netflix sitcom, announce "OK go get it" and he does. A cool dog, but of course I'm biased.
Dog class day arrives. He sees the leash, and his heart (engine) goes from 75 beats (RPM's) to 250 before you can blurt out "ready?"
On the 'warm-up lap' (our drive to class) of course the window is down, his head is out (wind kinda compresses his hair to where he kinda looks mole-like. With every approaching car, he likens a Wal-Mart greeter. He's a social little dude.)
OK, out we go from the car, stopping at 32 trees, 7 poles on the trek from the parking lot.
What to expect? Twenty barking, slobbering, peeing, pooping, biting, other mutts? Probably.
We enter. Nascar flips out. Barking (saying "hi") insessently , pulling, yanking, slobbering... excited, to say the least. The other hounds?
Total quiet (WHAT?) All in 'laydown' position, totally ignoring - almost to the point of disgust, Nascar.
"Oh crap" we thought, this is going to be a bigger challenge than we thought. After a minute or so of "Nascar frenzy" the teacher lady walks up and asks "Were you here last year?" I thought to myself (facetiously) 'yeah lady, can't you tell what a good job you did', then actually replied "no, this is our first time" - to which she replied:
"Well this class, the 7pm class, is the advanced class. These dogs are all either service dogs, therapy dogs or show dogs. The Beginner class (aka Nascar B team) was at 6."
A sense of relief, embarrassment, and maybe even a sly 'SE-grin' ensued.
"Sorry", then back thru the 32 trees, 7 poles to the car, the wind, then home - where we X'ed off 7pm from next Wednesday and chickenscratched '6pm' over it.
FYI, the next week was totally as expected, 20 snarling, barking, peeing, pooping, biting, fellow mutts. The B team.
As the weeks went on, in spite of rave reviews on sit, lay down, stay/come - Nascar flunked doggy school. "Too social, should learn how to ignore other dogs."
Oh well. It was of some consolation the chick at the welcome counter (we had a test to see how the dogs would react away from their owner, so one by one they were walked from the training room, to the welcome counter for a five minute stay there) so anyways, as we were leaving that night I asked the chick "How'd he do?"... "Oh, NASCAR? He was my favorite! Bring him back anytime!"
B team or not, no doggy degree - he's my favorite too.
"Time for a walk Nascar... I'm a little tired tonight, can you help me up the hills?"
love, Victurd.
