Hey, It’s Jet Here.
Yesterday, Mom, J.J. and I went in the backyard to see if I felt comfortable enough to empty my tank after New Year’s Eve. A small rectangular patch of our yard meshes with the curve of the canal. Sometimes, Mom, Koko, and I would take a few extra minutes after emptying our tanks to watch the ducks, figure out where the splash came from (rainbow bass usually) or watch as a skiff zipped by. Mom watched for snakes because a really scary snake called a water moccasin ended up in our pool when Mom and Mr. Fred moved in many, many, many years ago. While we paused to admire the canal yesterday, I focused on the two ducks paddling and Mom smiled as she remembered the following story.
One spring morning, Mom released my harness before the garage door descended fully and I took off like a jet (get it? Jet???). I scared Mom because she calls me a “runner” and I have the capacity to romp through the neighborhood for hours. Since it was this time called rush hour, Mom worried that a car would hit me. The best she could do was keep me in her sights and try to woo me back. Jet, can I continue from here? Sure Mom.
At one point, I saw you head to the rabbi’s back yard, navigate the small decline with ease and enter the canal. I watched you doggie-paddle up and down without a care in the world. Of course, after 45 minutes of chasing you throughout the neighborhood with nerves and adrenaline pumping, I was at wit’s end. I slowly walked over to our yard sat on the third concrete step leading to the canal, waiting and hoping you would tire and exit by me. I contemplated what believable story I would tell the office when I arrived late.
First you swam to the right. When you turned around I thought, ok, he’s done. Nope, you paddled past me and swam to the left. I waited for your turn and watched your side fur float on the surface. You looked so peaceful. All of a sudden, it dawned on me that the only time you ever returned to me was the time you got off leash at night and I cried in desperation and fear. (another story for another day.) So, I began to fake cry while calling your name. I must say, my performance was Oscar worthy. Sure enough, you little Boo-Boo, you leapt out of the canal onto our steps, shook all over me, and sat down beside me, as if we had rehearsed. I grabbed your collar, thanked above, and FIRMLY walked you inside.
As if I had time for an unplanned spa day, I dragged you, my Swamp Dog, into the shower for a super quick shampoo. I finished before 8:15 a.m., and somehow made it to work on time. Gosh Mom, I didn’t realize what a pickle I created. I don’t exactly recall, however, knowing my mind, I was happy to have an Iron K9 practice day! Cute, Jetty, like the reference… in hindsight, the story makes people laugh, at the time, not so much. Love you Mom. Love you too, Jetty.
Another great and memorable moments day.