Yesterday I took my dog to a clinic for a rabies shot. There was a long line of dogs waiting their turn. One chubby poodle mix could have fit into my purse if he wasn’t so fat. That he was tethered to a jiggling female, same size, same breed but different disposition added to the cartoonish scene. “These dogs are gonna kill me…” I imagined him thinking, “they’re gonna eat me alive” he seemed to whimper louder and louder, while his owner groaned and pulled tighter on the leash. The tighter she pulled the more the poodle turned round and round, creating a twisted mess with the leach of his calmer counterpart. No matter how hard his owner tried to calm him, he quivered, shook and whined louder than any large dog waiting in line. “If I could, I’d take him to the pound,” the owner vented. The little poodle was definitely cowardly compared to the stalwart dogs that patiently waited their turn. Considering how vulnerable the poor poodle was on the end of the leach surrounded by big dogs that could easily take his life, his poodle panic was justified. I grow comfortable knowing the poor poodle is probably back home, curled on the couch, while the owner coddles him, the other poodle rolling her eyes.
Suellen Ocean is the author of Gold River. Available here:
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