As usual my spring break is going by at light speed. And as usual, the things on my to do list are not getting done. I did make a nice big pan of enchiladas for dinner last night and Master was as usual appreciative. But for some reason the dinner did not sit well and I had the worst case of belly ache and burps.
I usually am happy when Master tells me to get my ass off the couch and put on my walking shoes but last night I tried every one of my whiny complainy pissy moany tricks to avoid going for a walk. Thank god that Master did not fall for it even for a second. So we went for a walk, belly ache and burps all the way. I mean... for real.. I was burping like a semi-truck jake-braking all the way. So lady like... brrrrrrpppppppp burrrpppp burp. Master just kept a death grip on my hand and dragged me along ignoring me and my emissions. He did grill me about the stomach pain, declaring that I was "clogged"... He made a vague threat to hog tie me and force feed me Metamucil... gag... shudder. I protested that I have been "going" just fine... in fact describing in detail the ...um... results of that going, declaring that I just had gas... and burrrrrrpppppped again in demonstration. But after a mile I have to admit things sort of worked themselves out and I was feeling much better. Thank you Master.
In fact walking with Master is one of my favorite things, holding his hand, following his lead, not knowing exactly where or how far and knowing it does not matter because if he chose to walk all night it would be my duty to keep up right beside him. We talk about everything and nothing. It is an almost nightly ritual now that the winter rains have turned to spring showers.
I must confess I did not always love the walks. I struggled with the fact he could arbitrarily decide when, order me to put on my shoes and "force" me to walk. I fought him like crazy. There is nothing quite as humiliating as having your Master pick up a stick of the street and use it on you right there. But if you ever watched "The Dog Whisperer" on the National Geographic channel, you will know that Master has modeled a great deal of his training on Cesar Milan's dog training theory. (Not that Cesar ever beat his dogs.) But under the guise of exercise is the reality of surrendering to his will, when we go fast, when we go slow, where we turn, when we come home... all those are out of my hand. In fact I have actually closed my eyes and walked block after block with nothing but his hand guiding me.
Or Maybe Next Time...
6 hours ago