I have said that I have another blog that is incognito, and I had thought about adding this entry to it, but I think that I will reproduce the story here instead because it is mostly about Storm. Under the former username, I read a interesting blog at intervals about living without religion (which is not something that I do) and human differences. The author had recently posted how dogs have altruism that we may not, and they will save humans who are not “theirs.” We all know about pack with respect to dogs.
I was tired yesterday. I had gotten some bad news at work and then the painting that a colleague was helping me patch, did not go right because I had paint that had actually oxidized and turned into what seemed to be play dough. The other can had simply dried out, so she patched the red and we will paint again today. We need both the bright white and the egg shell, which I’ll buy.
Although my son should have been just as tired given that he was at Day Camp and then baseball practice, he still lead us both on the walk alongside the water on the trail that we live by. We came a mile through the trees over boulders and such, and then I said, “Let’s take the trail back.” Of course, being seven, my son flatly refused. So, I did what I normally do and that is tell him, “OK, just stay in step with us where I can see you, and of course hear you, when you are lower or behind trees.”
Within about two-minutes, my son was gone. I began screaming his name. When this activity waned on and five-minutes had elapsed, I let her off leash because I couldn’t run and scream with her basically attached to four-feet from me. Now we were told that Storm was a Boxer and German Shepherd and we believed that for the first 8-months that we had her, but now we know that she is also Greyhound. Always the fastest dog at the park, and will run far away with her lanky back legs and small waist, we know that the Shepherd in her was mixed. But, she didn’t run. She would run the creek bed and then would come check on me. She would sniff the bushes and then come back to me.
I didn’t find my son for fifteen-minutes, and, in fact, it was not me who but a female jogger and her dog. I wept and foamed, and he asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t even pet my dog, who had not left my side, back on leash. Yesterday was not good at all, and was not limited to this experience, but I found out Storm’s nature.
I know that it’s summer, but if I can’t have my boy, I need more walks. Look at my desperation.