Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

It was a wet and windy weekend, and by this morning, almost all the pretty leaves had blown away. There are a few bright patches here and there, but the riot of colour is finished for another year. Jack and I set out feeling a bit blue about the bare trees, but the sun was shining, the day was warm and pleasant, and it wasn’t long before we were both feeling better. The colour may be gone looking up, but there’s still plenty of pretty here on the ground. We passed burning bushes burning scarlet and porches with pumpkins and mums in pots. We found lavender of the palest blue, golden hostas and even a red-breasted robin picking at purple berries. The fallen leaves from the weekend are still full of colour, too, and they brightly litter the ground in every direction. Jack says he can see the leaves better this way, and he thinks that’s why they fall – so the small creatures who don’t look up much can appreciate them too. I didn’t tell him otherwise.

 

Jack’s Walk

Quick, how many cows? ©voyager, all rights reserved

When I was a kid, my dad often took us for family drives on Sundays. Whenever we passed a farm with cows in the field, my dad would say, “Quick, voyager, how many cows are there,” then, he’d hit the gas and go fast, too fast for me to count them all before they were out of sight. I’d throw out a good guesstimate like 26 or 34 or 101, but no matter what my answer was, Dad always said, “Nope, there were 28 or 35 or 105.” Then he’d wait for me to say, “how did you do that so quick.’

“Easy, he’d say. I counted the legs and divided by 4.”

 

Jack’s Walk

Mortimer P. Griswold “Smirk” ©voyager, all rights reserved

I was feeling a bit blue today, but Jack and I made the acquaintance of a new friend in the forest who helped buoy my spirits. His given name is Mortimer P. Griswold (the fourth), but he told us to call him Smirk. We met quite by accident when Jack almost peed on him, but luckily, Smirk called out in time for Jack to lower his leg and grin a small apology. Smirk laughed it off, saying that soaking up dog pee was just part of being a tree, and then he complimented Jack on his excellent manners. We stayed and chatted for a few minutes and Smirk giggled the whole time. He told us a few tree jokes that were a bit lame (How do trees get online? They log in.), but he was so darned happy that it was easy for Jack and I to laugh. We agreed to visit him again before leaving and then Jack and I continued on our way, both of us wearing a smile.

Jack’s Walk

Complementary Colours ©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s a beautiful day in my neighbourhood. The air is clear and crisp with a northwest wind that has just enough bite to make the tips of your ears tingle. The sun is shining in a blue blue sky, and the trees are on fire and dancing in the wind. The sidewalks are littered with withering copper leaves that tickle your ankles and rustle as you walk. Some fallen leaves still want to dance, and they go skittering down the street riding on the wind. It’s the sort of day that fills my senses and makes me feel quiet. I’m pretty sure Jack feels the same way – today, we put aside the talk of this and that and walked in companionable silence, each of us soaking up the season.

 

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s election day in Canada and Jack is upset that he can’t vote. I explained to him that he’s too young, but he said that’s only in people years and that in dog years he’s almost 80.

“Well, that’s a good point, Bubba, but even if you are old enough, you’re still a dog and dogs can’t vote.” I reached down to fondle his ear. He heaved a sigh and walked away muttering about civic responsibility and how silly and stupid people are.

I mulled that over while I finished the dishes and then I grabbed my coat and Jack’s leash and called out to him, “hey Bubba…wanna be a greeter at the polling station. That’s an important job, and it’s best suited to a dog just like you.”

He happily joined me and off we went up the street to stand outside the polling station and say hi to all the people. We stayed for about half an hour, and once Jack’s tank was overflowing with love and adoration we slowly made our way home. Jack quickly fell asleep, but the thought bubble over his head was filled with smiley faces and a job well done. That’s my boy.

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s a double gravity sort of day for me and I’ve been dragging my ass. The weather is cold and damp with a blustery, biting wind, and the sky is dreary and heavy with clouds. It’s not the sort of day that invites you to come out and play. Nonetheless, I did manage to walk Jack around the neighbourhood and by the time we arrived back home, I was feeling a bit better. We took our walk slowly, and it gave Jack a chance to smell lots of fallen leaves. He tells me that it’s important to smell the leaves because that’s how the trees talk to him. I asked him what the trees were saying, and Jack told me that some of them are thirsty and some of them are looking forward to winter, and this one beside us wants him to pee somewhere else. Oh. Alright, then Bubba, I guess we’d better go. Silly mummy, he said and lifted his leg to pee

Jack’s Walk

I make my own sunshine. ©voyager, all rights reserved

“Wake up. You have to get up now,” I heard my husband call out sharply from the hallway.

“Why,” I call back, already getting up. Mr. doesn’t use that tone often, so I know there’s a problem.

“There’s been an accident out front.”

Oh. Just that. Again. We live near a high school and at certain times of day a few cars speed through the corner near our house. I looked at the clock. Yup, 8:15, the busiest time of day.

I was having trouble shaking myself awake as I grabbed my robe and stiffly hurried to the door hoping no-one was hurt. Mr. was already at the door and when we looked out, the first thing we saw was a shiny black car resting on the sidewalk about a foot from our front lawn and very near the spot that Jack likes to sit and greet the kids who walk to school. The front end was bent and twisted and looked beyond repair. In the other direction, we saw another shiny black car with its passenger door smashed in, and between the vehicles, there was a field of debris littering the road and two men standing talking under a single blue striped golf umbrella. Great – no-one hurt. I made my way to the kitchen, put on the coffee and was heading to the bathroom when I heard a knock on my door. Standing there was a strapping, young fireman wearing all his gear who smiled at me pleasantly and told me that the car would be removed soon and not to worry. Mam. He called me mam. I thanked him and smiled back, wishing him a good day. When I finally made it to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. One side of my hair was wild and sticking out at all angles and the other side was plastered to my head. My fluffy pink bathrobe was sporting a big stain of some sort, and my face was full of pillow wrinkles. Best of all, I wasn’t wearing my dentures and suddenly realized that I’d given the guy a great big, Granny Clampett, toothless grin.

And how was your morning?

Jack’s Walk

Blow, wind, blow. ©voyager, all rights reserved

I had a bit of time this morning, so I thought I’d give Bubba a treat and home took him for a walk in the woods. It’s a blustery day here, and I thought we’d be somewhat protected from the wind in the forest, and this turned out to be true. I forgot to factor in that those giant trees towering above me, protecting us from the wind, were being buffeted by it and were blowing around – a lot. We’ve been to the forest before on windy days and you can hear the trees squeak and creak as they rock to and fro. It’s a bit eerie, but Jack was so excited that we sang a few songs to drown out the noise and carried on bravely. I say bravely, but stupidly is probably more accurate. We were just about halfway around when we heard a sharp crack just above us, followed by a sudden earth-shaking, crackling thud about 20 feet behind us. A large branch had fallen onto the path and lay there still quivering. Holy Shit! That was way too close. If Jack had been lingering behind me as usual instead of trying to share my croissant, he would have been toast. If I’d been just a bit more leisurely, I could have been toast. We sped up a bit then (there’s only so fast a Jack and a voyager can go) and made it back to our car without further incident.

Note to self: Update the don’t do list one more time.