Goddamn Brownies

Lately I have been going on walks. Exercise is a good thing, and this, along with eating a little better, will help me lose some weight. Now I'm not overdoing it with the exercise. Fulci (my dog if you don't know) and I have been traveling approximately two miles (sometimes more, sometimes less) and we try to go everyday.

The dog has a tendency to get really excited when on his leash and try to run or pull me along. All this really accomplishes is choking him. After getting tired of him spending half of the trip wheezing and not learning from his mistakes I decided to get him one of those harnesses. There were size problems, but once it was all ironed out he put on the new harness this afternoon and looked so cute. There was no coughing today, everything went smoothly. Well, almost.

About halfway through our route we stumbled upon to unleashed, roaming big dogs. One of them was a lab mix of some kind and the other a very fluffy St. Bernard looking boy. The boy part I know for certain because his balls were hard to miss. I knew this could be trouble and as soon as they saw Fulci to us they ran. At first all they did was sniff him, but it soon became hard to walk. They were each about four times the size of my little puppy and he would stop when one of them was standing before him. Once I heard the first little growl I just picked him up and kept on trucking.

They just kept following us. There was a moment when we were down the street from them so I put Fulci back down. As soon as his paws hit the pavement they were on their way back. Bah! The fluffy dog had a tag so after much wrestling I finally had it and there was a phone number. With Fulci in one arm, and the other dog's collar in the other hand, I somehow eventually dialed the number on the bone shaped tag. It was a Vet's office. Sigh. I told her I wasn't aware this was a business number. The tag did not look like a rabies medallion, it was shaped like a bone, the same kind on my dog. Not knowing the area code which was on the dog's collar I asked, "Where is the 907 area code?"

Alaska.

What the hell?! I told her I was in Texas and she was as shocked as I was. During the conversation the two tag-alongs ran off towards the nearby duck pond to rustle some feathers. We hurried off and they never found us. Why the hell would you not put your home or cell number on your dog's tag? What good is an Alaskan veterinary office going to do in Texas?