Mary had gone to our daughter-in-law Katie's house one street over to help with remodeling or yard work or something. She said she would be back by 4:30 so that we could take the critters for a walk. Knowing Mary, I said fine, but if you aren't back by 4:30, Simon and I are out of here. Of course she wasn't and so we left, though not without some grief.
First, I had trouble clipping Simon's lead to his collar, primarily because my hands do not work well. It's an oxymoron; they are numb, yet they burn like fire. I was sitting at the bottom of our stairs near our front door. I had trouble pulling the clip mechanism down. What compounded the problem was that Schuster kept running around us and sticking his nose into the situation.
I finally managed to get Simon attached and out the front door. Schuster came out with us. Not good. No lead on and a wild little dachshund loose in the subdivision and I not able to run. Simon was at the end of the sixteen foot lead; Schuster was next to him looking back at me. I called him. Miracle of miracles, he came. I opened the door again, and wonderful, safe little Schuster went back into the house.
The day had been lovely, but now the sun was beginning to slide toward the horizon in the low south-western part of the sky. The sun in that position depresses me, but I screwed my courage to the sticking place (nudge nudge) and off we went, lickety split. Simon was in his cross-country mode, pulling me down our steep driveway and out into the street. Where he usually stops to pee and sniff, today he ran. "Easy Simon," I yelled. "Easy little guy." "Simon! " I yelled. He hurried on. I tugged on the lead, a bit. "Gronk gronk gronk," he choked. And so the walk continued, with me (weighing in at 179) being pulled along the sidewalk by a sixteen pound low-slung dog, while continually appealing to dog's better nature and respect for the elderly, urging him to slow down to slow down to please slow down.
Suffice it to say we made it: to the end of Fairway, left on Forest, up the steep hill to Center, across Forest and down Center, all the way to the Log House, Berea College's large gift shop; around the Log House to Estill street, and all the way down, or is it up, Estill to, ta dum, Forest again. Then down the Forest street hill to Fairway and home to number three, exactly a mile, according to my car's odometer, when I last measured it, 10 or so years ago.
Well, almost home. When we got to number three, Simon, it turned out, was not done with me yet. I was tired and cold and he was still wound up. He zipped past our drive and on around the curve in the road; he wanted to go up our neighbor Gin's driveway and off into the golf course beyond. I talked him out of that this time, though Gin kindly let's us exit and enter the subdivision through her yard (#6 Fairway); since that way always leads to adventures, he loves to take that route and knows it well.
In any case, not today and he was gentle about my refusal. (He too, remember, had already walked over a mile in increasingly cold weather.) From Gin's driveway to the cul-de-sac at the end of the street, around the circle, back up the hill and home. This time he was content to go up the driveway and into the house.
But wait. My numb hands were now really cold and I could not get my keys out of my deep Docker's pants pocket. Simon was patient; he sat down, while I danced and fiddled with the deep pocket. I could not tell whether I had the keys in my hand. Three, four times, no keys. Finally I got them up and out, tried to put the house key in the lock, dropped them, tried again, dropped them again, got the key in, turned it too far, the door didn't open. Since I had pulled the key out and immediately dropped them again, I asked Simon to help me, but he simply ignored me, still sitting patiently.
Suffice it to say at this point that I finally managed to get the key in the lock and the security system disarmed. Since we were not greeted by three barking, hysterical dogs, I assumed Mary had managed to get home before dark and take them down to the hiking trail. With all the critters walked, we were all good for the evening. I was knackered, so when I got to the top of the stairs, I made for our sofa where Simon had already secreted himself under the blanket, I dropped down, and dropped off, to sleep till Mary and the rest of the creatures should return. Which, of course, they did, and a fine evening was had by all.