The answers will come. In time, Rick...in time. So, while I'm asking...and waiting...I might as well also ask a most burning question...why do dogs' feet smell like popcorn? Oh, some will say cheese....cheese crackers...cheese curls. I stand by my conviction that it's popcorn. A little butter maybe. But only real butter. Rusty's here...just ask him...or visit his handsome little feet. He'll let you. He'll like it.
If you think about it, dogs' feet live interesting lives. The fortunate ones do anyway. They run through forests and all the ground cover and exotic animals have to offer. They run across lush lawns and baseball fields and depths of snow and puddles of rain. These feet touch other dogs and are licked and pampered during quiet, quality times. I haven't checked...nor will I most likely...but I would guess the dogs of Bowdoin fields have similar aromas. It's all a part of the magical world they share each day. If you're there, you know. These dogs are friends. They carry out an improvisational ballet, each having a role, a voice. Some are principal dancers while others provide the background and chorus. The story line is often the same, but the choreography changes each day. Mouths....teeth...tails...slobber... and, yes, feet. Smiles, growls, grunts and wags. Exhausted, they will inevitably visit the privacy of the forest for necessary business...or gather at the water hole for a drink and perhaps a silent toast to the day's events.
The people...the dog parents as it were...vary in their approach to this semi-scheduled, semi-spontaneous performance. Some stand around and chat....air conditioners, weather, and such. Nice folks. Others engage with the dogs with tennis balls, frisbees, treats, and even wrestling in the thick Bowdoin grass. Still others...the "visitors"...will more often than not walk hurriedly by, curiously restraining their dogs who clearly want to investigate, perhaps to join, the show...the frolicking ensemble of dog buddies. As I've rarely been able to ignore the opportunity for a "dog fix"...anytime, anyplace...I can only wonder what preoccupation requires these "invaders" (Rusty's word, not mine) to deny their pets a chance to dance and play with the others. The rest of us are there to enjoy the company of other dog-loving-humans...but more likely to indulge the kids at the playground just as they deserve. There is no right or wrong here (well, Nora disagrees), but certainly the makings of a case study for an otherwise bored Bowdoin sociology student.
The dogs return home. A wet tummy from the puddle, a wet spot on the head from someone's mouth (you know who you are, Bailey), the satisfying drink of water to quiet excitement and thirst and, of course....popcorn feet. Popcorn feet. Although I do digress...I'd really like to know.
No comments:
Post a Comment