b Papa Dog's Blog: Tranquil Family Walk Mixed with Police Activity and Growling

Papa Dog's Blog

A Thing Wherein I Infrequently Write Some Stuff

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Tranquil Family Walk Mixed with Police Activity and Growling

Mama Dog had a dog-walking date this morning with her predecessor at her new job, who is dogsitting an Akita-Shepherd – a mix very similar to Doggy Dog, who is Akita-Husky. At the last minute, we spontaneously decided to make it a family outing, so we suited up Baby Dog, broke out the stroller, and all headed out at the crack of 9:30, running just a little bit late. About two blocks from the rendezvous point, we noticed a police car – and then another police car – and then more police cars in the distance. As we neared the intersection, it became clear that the street between us and the rendezvous point was being cordoned off. A policeman was standing at his cruiser in the middle of the street, talking into a cell phone. He looked back our way, and I pointed questioningly to the right. He nodded and waved us that way. Detour. Mama Dog was flustered because she and her predecessor didn’t have one another’s cell numbers, and since we’d been running late anyway it looked possible we might miss them. The detour was around a very long block with no through streets, so it was going to take some time to backtrack to our rendezvous point. Overhead, a police helicopter circled relentlessly. Whatever was going on was no small potatoes.

We made it back up to the cross street we’d planned to meet on and squinted down the several blocks, looking for people with a dog. We couldn’t see anybody, but it was a bit of a distance and hard to be sure. Mama Dog thought they’d probably have gone on to the café. We almost went on, but then she spotted some people in the distance. I decided I should check it out, and went on ahead with Doggy Dog. Sure enough, after I’d gone a couple of blocks I could see they had a dog with a curly tail. I called Mama Dog and told her I’d found her friends. The police helicopter droned overhead.

We all walked on to the café together, the dogs taking appreciative sniffs at one another’s hindquarters and the people speculating about the police activity. If you believe the realtors, we live in Rockridge, which is unequivocally an upscale neighbourhood. We’re on the far outer reaches of Rockridge, true, but still, we don’t see stuff like this very often.

When we got to the café, relations between the dogs broke down, almost predictably. Doggy Dog gets restless when we stop like that on a walk anyway, but the presence of the other dog made things worse. When the other dog happened to get between Doggy Dog and the baby stroller, I had time to think “Oh, that’s not good,” and then growling ensued. We pulled them apart before it could turn into a fight, but I knew that having coffee with both dogs could only be a recipe for stress. I elected to bow out, and took Doggy Dog home. I’d already had enough of an outing anyway, and it was a longer morning walk than he usually gets.

Weird coincidence: when we were approaching the blockaded intersection, Mama Dog recalled how her boss had recently been late to work because the block she lived in (in Albany) had been cordoned after a police raid on a meth lab had turned into a hostage situation. On her return from coffee, Mama Dog had occasion to speak with several folks in the neighbourhood about the police activity. The story that emerged was that the police had raided a meth lab and it had turned into a hostage situation. Maybe that’s just what they always say when they block off a street. Don’t suppose I’ll ever know for sure.


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