Quote:
Originally posted by dtb
As to your first point, I went riding this weekend with a friend, and we were in a field that didn't seem to have a way out except for over this barbed wire fence. He helpfully suggested that I should lay my jacket over the barbed wire so that if the horse were to graze his leg on the way over, he would just rip my jacket instead of hurting himself.
Uh... yeah.
(We found another way out, I'm sure you're all relieved to know.)
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When the Displaced Dog was about 10 weeks old, he saw a pair of horses on the other side of a field. He barked at them, but I didn't think he'd do any more than that. We were walking back to the house, and I crossed over a barbed wire fence and didn't pay as much attention to his leash as I should have. Next thing I know, my puppy is racing across the field at full speed towards the horses. I try to leap over the fence, rip my favorite pair of jeans in the process, get untangled from the fence, and tear after the puppy. My best friend more cautiously, and with less damage to her clothing, followed. A friend was working on the side of the field with the horses and said it was one of the funniest things he'd ever seen. Small fuzzy black dog barking and tearing acoss the field, frantic woman in her early twenties tripping and running and yelling at the puppy, and regular person following behind. About halfway across the field, the Displaced Dog stopped, and looked at me and then at the horses. I'd like to think that he realized he was in deep shit (actually that's probably a literal statement since there was a lot of cow shit in that field) and wanted to be an obedient dog, but I really think that he realized how much bigger the horses were than he was and cut his losses. He wasn't a bit contrite when he trotted up to me and told me he was ready to resume the walk.
The new puppy met cows for the first time on Sunday. She barked like hell at the cows (and two sheep) and tugged at the leash. I made sure that the leash was firmly in hand for the rest of the walk.
