Rescue Dogs Roll the Dice…

Written by Dr. Don Newbury – I really don’t know if old dogs can be taught new tricks. A more pertinent question is whether a couple of canines can–or choose–to remember old tricks.

Early on, they understood the “do-you-want-to-go” question warrants affirmative response. The query usually means trips to the store, bank or post office. The possibility of such trips offer numerous pleasantries, including treats and heads thrust through partially open windows for ready access to fresh air.

If they were kittens, they’d offer loudest purrs upon hearing comments that rescue dogs are smarter. Instead, they kick tail-wagging into high gear, indicating that all–or at least much–is well in their world….

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Such trips are interspersed with occasional other “go” offers that result in visits to the vet or the groomer.

Neither is a favorite destination.

On such occasions, they droop, as if betrayed. Thankfully, memories seem short. Soon, the “go” word again is regarded as a signal of auto rides to more favored places….

After experiencing a short ride in a “runaway car,” however, they may re-think their stance on whether to remain eternal optimists concerning the appeal of bounding into the garage and hopping into the car.

I was an eye-witness to the accident, trying my best to jump back into my car, where gear shift–intended to have been left in “P”–was in the “N” position instead.

Sadie, our mostly Jack Russell terrier, and Sailor–perhaps a purebred Dachshund–accompanied me to pick up pizza. They were stationed in the backseat, having learned recently that when the console lid is raised, they are forbidden to join me in the front seat….

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On the return trip home, I spotted our community’s largest commercial building, an attractive new three-story structure under construction. It is topped by a clock tower that is bound to become a conversation piece.

Remembering my intent to write about the clock, I stopped at a grocery store parking lot across the street. (It should be noted that my parked vehicle was “pointed” toward Renfro Street, one of Burleson’s busiest thoroughfares.)

I stood beside my car, bracing my arm on the open door while trying to figure out how to use my flip phone as a camera. I felt the door leaving me as the car oozed slowly forward, and I attempted to jump back in the car…..

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I fell, wondering why I felt no pain as the rear wheel rolled over about a one-inch width of my size 12 foot.

I had a “worm’s eye” view, sprawled on the parking lot, as my car rolled slowly across four lanes of traffic. It jumped the curb on the other side, soon coming to a stop by a security fence surrounding the new structure.

Embarrassed, I surveyed the scene quickly to see if there were witnesses. There were many. About 15 motorists in the four lanes somehow stopped to give my errant vehicle wide berth….

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Seconds later, I jogged across the street, happy to see my dogs had remembered to stay in the backseat.  I don’t guess if I’ll ever know if they were obedient, traumatized or realized that if they’d jumped forward, they’d have distanced themselves from the aroma of pizza in the trunk.

Upon re-parking at the grocery store, three motorists drove alongside to make sure I was okay. Then, one of Burleson’s finest arrived in a squad car. He offered to call an ambulance, but I “poo-pooed” such action. My foot didn’t hurt, then or later. Before leaving the scene, I made a photograph—WITH MY FLIP PHONE–and without assistance.

The accident knocked my bumper off, and my son-in-law repaired it. Yes, the pizza was good, and no, I didn’t file an insurance claim. The dogs still enjoy car rides, but now, only with my wife. If I invite them, they head for their beds, pulling the covers over their heads….