Dogs are an endless source of entertainment to us dog-loving humans. I especially love surprises. Oh, there are the occasional bad surprises. I believe I already told the story of the squirrel mangling that took place on our bed. ‘Yuck’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. And that time many years ago when our pregnant pup dropped the first of her litter on the hillside during a game of fetch. She didn’t even look back. She just ran back with the ball. And there was the time that our pup killed one of my mother’s chickens in a colorful explosion of feathers before anyone could blink. There are so many, many surprises we’ve been hit with over the years—too many to count, and not all bad. But before I extoll the virtues of good dog surprises, I just have to tell the story about how surprised my husband, Rob, was the other day.
Our Daisy is a car ride dog. She loves, loves, loves car rides, especially in the truck. See, she likes to surf—you know, stand on the center console and watch out the front window, like she’s piloting the car. Since Rob is usually driving when we’re all riding together, he’s developed a system for keeping her from landing in his lap. This is necessary because on top of her being a large dog (not the typical lap-happy pocket pet), she is surprisingly clumsy. Although she appears to be concentrating on the road, she never seems to anticipate the clearly marked curves. Each one sends her careening sideways. Rob has developed a special grip on her collar that also braces her chest, protecting both driver and console surfer against dangerous slips. When she’s in the truck, however, there’s room enough for sitting solidly on the big bench seat, which requires far less safety bracing. We also suspect that, in her previous life, she might have had experience riding in trucks. There are signs. So, she was in for a special treat the other day when Rob bypassed the old Rover and headed toward the truck. Her excitement shifted from run-of-the-mill, “happy to be invited” excitement to full-on vibrating. Her tail-wagging speed jumped from flagging to the ecstatic setting, and she went from a trot to one of those half-running, half-jumping prances. Did I mention there are signs?
Being a diesel, the truck was started to idle while they took a quick loop down the driveway to the bank of mailboxes, and back again. Daisy had to be pulled past the truck. She kept looking back, hoping that going for a ride in the coveted truck wasn’t a fake-out. When the door was opened, she hopped in, taking her rightful place in the center of the seat. From there, she could easily go from center to passenger side window, which had been partially rolled down for her. You see, there are dogs in the neighborhood that like to race all cars along their fenceline. She eagerly anticipates it, whining and shifting to lean as far out the window as she can reach to participate in her own way. It is usually the best part of the ride. For the record, even if Daisy isn’t in the car, those dogs race the fenceline and it’s one of my favorite parts of the drive too. I have been known to shout “Go! Go!” when I see them start. Their enthusiasm is infectious.
So, this particular truck ride did include the usual neighborhood race and lots of hanging out the window sniffing. Two of her favorite things. The trip into town includes a long, curvy, mostly dirt road with fabulous smells to savor, and Daisy was busy enjoying all of it. When the dirt road ends and the pavement starts again, it happens right outside of a busy intersection with lots of cars, buses and foot traffic. Hubby stopped at the light and watched as an older lady headed across the sidewalk, a friendly-looking medium-sized dog trotting by her side on a leash. It was then that he realized Daisy’s window was down a bit too far. Surprise! The realization occurred in a blur of white fur and action, as she launched herself right out the window and hit the ground running. She was headed straight for the lady with the dog. While Hubby sat in shock, blinking, mouth agape, trapped behind the wheel, the light turned green, and he had to move through and quickly find a place to park the big truck to retrieve her. Two lucky things were at play in that moment and here’s where Daisy shines: She loves other dogs and means no harm to any being—human or canine. And the kindly lady was a dog-lover and treated the encounter like meeting up with an old friend rather than an attack. By the time Hubby rushed up to retrieve Daisy, all were having a grand ol’ time on the sidewalk, safely out of traffic. He thanked the woman, apologized for the intrusion, easily clipped on her leash, and guided her back to the car. That’s enough bad surprises for the day!
For the record, Daisy also brings us good surprises. Like how she stretches on top of me and lays her sweet head on my lap and how she refuses to do the same with Rob. Try as he might—and he tries valiantly—she won’t cuddle him in that way. Don’t worry, she shows her affection to him in other ways—like surprise wrestling attacks, or by stepping on top of his leg and going nose-to-nose. I suspect she likes the feel of his bushy beard against her muzzle. These little habits are uniquely Daisy and—surprise! We love her for them.
“It was then that he realized Daisy’s window was down a bit too far.”
