“Hey, Wreck. Want to go for a ride in the car?”
Wreck knows his name now and he recognizes the phrase “ride in the car.” He doesn’t much care where we’re going; for Wreck, the journey is enough.
We drove up into the North Georgia Mountains yesterday and stopped at Tallulah Gorge State Park. We weren’t going hiking because, well, I don’t hike. I’ll tramp from one end of Manhattan to the other, climb the Great Wall of China, and get lost shopping in Seoul’s twisty little markets, but I don’t hike. Taking in all that nature – the bugs, the dirt, the pollen? That is so not my style.
But I will go for a walk with Wreck. As a matter of fact, we walk every day. Yes, outside. He likes it, and that’s enough for me.
|Are we having fun yet?|
So Chris and Wreck and I got out of the car and “took a walk” through the woods. We scrambled up the mountain and slid back down the rocky slopes. We gawked at the beauty of Tallulah Falls, and took in the gorgeous fall colors of the leaves. I have to admit that it was very pleasant.
There were some obstacles we had to work around, though. The park was busy and a lot of people had decided to take their own dogs for a walk. Wreck doesn’t like other dogs, to put it mildly.
Wreck’s dislike of other dogs may be a result of the neglect he suffered for the first year of his life. He was left alone outside, where he had to defend himself against anything that wandered into the yard – dogs, cats, squirrels, possums, hawks, and the like. He grew very fierce.
It’s hard to picture a 10-pound white poodle as a vicious beast, isn’t it? I swear, the pit bull he went after grinned. What the pit bull didn’t realize was that Wreck actually would have gone for her jugular – or her ankles, anyway – if he hadn’t been firmly attached to a leash.
Wreck confronts his fears head-on. There’s something to be said for that. But maybe one day, given time and love, he won’t be so afraid any more. That would be nice for Wreck and me, and safer for pit bulls everywhere.