The Grandchildren Walk the Dog

I suppose it was my daughter's sly sense of humor that led her to name her younger children Aaron and Miriam, but that's not today's subject. Aaron will be 5 in August, Miriam is 2.5, and they came to our house on Friday, for a week, with their big sister Analise, who was 7 in April, and who is slightly burdened by these younger sibs. Especially Aaron, who is fully a boy, and is as intrusive as young boys are at this age, on the cusp between unabated curiousity and self-actualization not yet mitigated by self-consciousness or shame.

Friday afternoon I was telephoned and asked me to walk my friend's white German shepherd Cabal, and it suddenly seemed like a really good idea to take all 3 grands and NOT exhausted Izzie. Izzie protested weakly, but I took all three, in their car seats, on a tour of the south of Menomonie, and then past the strawberry field at Irvington, to see if we could pick this morning. We could, and they had 2 buckets of fresh strawberries still to sell, so I bought one. $15, a bargain.

The chickens snacked on strawberries while we went to the dog. They like dogs, but Miriam was a bit spooked by this dog who is taller at the withers than her shoulders.

My friend's property is adjoined to the Valley of Gilbert Creek, a lovely wooded valley cut into clay bluffs, between which trickles, runs, or tumbles (depending on the wetness of the season (dramatic pause) Gilbert Creek. He has caused long paths to be created and maintained through the valley and along the creek, a lovely place to walk. Along the creek is a suspension footbridge, and near the west end of the paths, a glade with 4 bee hives.

The expeditionary force set off: a 7 year old self-assured girl, her distractable, interruptible small brother, and the geezer in loafers and shorts, carrying a timid little girl in his right arm and holding a purple leash in his left hand, being towed down the steep slippery hill behind the garage by the white German shepherd. We made it. Cabal, by the way, was the name of King Arthur's once and future dog.

The suspension footbridge was discovered and played upon. It's quite fun to jump up and down while crossing it, though for two of them to jump dys-synchronously creates risk for both of them, above the rushing waters. I was stuck on shore, holding the dog's leash in one hand and Miriam upon the other arm, making cautionary bleatings.

Eventually Miriam *had* to cross it by herself. She did allow Analise to guide her, and Aaron thankfully did not jump on it while she crossed (though he more than thought about it).

A board had come loose at the near end of the bridge, which captured the attention of the Young Engineer. He knelt to see if he could repair it's position. He knelt, grabbed one end, and in about three seconds, he suddenly was upended, his legs and feet flashing straight up, his head and shoulders down in the missing board's slot.

Fortunately, the gap was over the steep bank at the near end, so he didn't fall in the water, just tumbled a few inches onto a log. He was pretty startled, but crawled back up onto the bridge with minimal help from his big sister.

We had a long, desultory walk after that. Grampa finally got tired of carrying the Young Lady on one arm or the other, and discovered everyone was happier and more comfortable with her on his shoulders.

The only wrinkle during the rest of the long walk occurred when the Young Engineer, who'd been stoic about his tumble through the bridge, brushed his knee on a nettle, and spent the next five minutes noisily weeping. But 2 hours later, when he told Gramma about the trip, he said that the tumble "hurt really bad" and forgot to mention the nettle. :)

This seems to have started a love affair with the dog for the little-est urchin. "Walk Cabal?" she says every few hours. So Saturday we surprised the friend's teenage daughter and her comrades by showing up at 6. We took a short walk, to the swinging bridge and the bee glade.

Sunday, only the two younger ones wanted to go. Miriam wanted to start the walk on my shoulders, and away we went, down past the barn, through the valley, along the corn field, Cabal towing me hard, because I was lagging so as not to lose sight of Aaron. For all his hyperactivity, he does stop to smell the flowers. We went slowly through the former bee-glade, and down the hill along the rope. Aaron was trailing all the way, and at the bottom I took a risk.

"Aaron. Would you like to hold the leash?"

Yes of course! So I showed him to put the loop around his shoulder and hold the plastic handle with both hands, and bated my breath to see how fast Cabal would tow him, and whether he'd be able to stay afoot.

Amazing! Cabal walked slowly, gently, hardly pulling. They walked together to the southeast end of the universe, and back to the swinging bridge, almost 40 minutes at Aaron's pace. We crossed the bridge, including Miriam ("My own self!!"), who managed to get over and back without falling through or off.

This triumph complete, she decided it was time to hold the leash herself. I confess that I did not trust Cabal to sense what was right for her, and he was acting more frisky now that we were west of the bridge (perhaps there was bear scent earlier, who knows? I am not counting on Cabal to defend me from the bear, based on his kind demeanor).

So... I hooked a finger under Cabal's collar, and we all walked at *Miriam's* pace - extremely slowly - onward to the bee-glade, and past, I was getting a little tired, so I said cheerfully, "Shall we take Cabal to his house?" The little lady said, "No, house!" At about this time, the children discovered, with slight adult help, that if they said "sit" and gently laid a hand on Cabal's haunches, he would sit. They enjoyed this for awhile, and then discovered that they also needed to learn how to get him to un-sit. This was an easy problem to solve.

And so it came to pass that we crept along the alternate path through the woods, past the swinging bridge, to the steep ascend to the house.

We had been walking over an hour now, and I was tired if the kids were not. I suggested taking Cabal to his house. "No, house" said Miriam. So I resorted to deceit. "Shall we climb the hill?"

She smiled and nodded. "Climb hill! Stairs!" she said. And so, she holding the leash, and I with a finger still hooked in Cabal's collar, we climbed the hill and the stairs "my own self", with a little boost from Grampa at the taller steps. She does not object to being helped with difficult things, as long as she's allowed to give an unimpeded try herself.

We took Cabal into the house, and found rice and chicken, though not in tupperware, and fed him. The children patiently squatted by him while he ate, carefully observing and commenting on his progress until he was quite finished.

After that, we played with Cabal for the space of about half an hour, at which point Isabelle telephoned to ask if we were going to come home for supper before bedtime. The little lady said, "No, home!" but was gently overruled, and tried to kiss Cabal goodbye. He didn't quite understand what she wanted, and I didn't know how to guide him to a proper response.

August 5, 2009 - The Other Granchildren Also Walk...

Today I took the day off work and play, and spent it with the North Carolina grandchildren.

First we crossed the big ditch by my house and explored the tall corn, to a child standing as sequoias thick and green, and mysteriously in rows in which you could get lost from sight, but not from turning around and going back.

Then we walked down to the lake and stirred sticks in the soupy algae. This has inordinate fascination for children and ex-children.

Next, we went in the van to Cabal's house and said hello to Mary and her dog, and took Cabal for a walk along The Path of Gilbert Creek Vale. Cabal again kept pace with whomever was holding his lead, slowly and gently when the littlest one was behind (except forgetting himself and running if an older child raced ahead), pulling v-e-r-y hard when this geezer held the lead.

Cabal is the loveliest excuse for a walk! Especially with grandchildren, to whom he's fascinating.

We did not go to The End of the Earth today because Luke, 2 1/2, needed to be carried by his mother much of the time, and this was taxing to her. We did wade in the creek. Getting one's feet wet is obligatory when near clear lively water.

I saved The Swinging Bridge for the last part of the walk, so that the journey toward the End of the Earth would not seem anticlimactic. They delightedly spent a great deal of time on it.

We spent more than an hour and a half, until noon, on the walk, and the children seemed completely content. It was about ten minutes too long, a good thing in that no one complained when we emerged by the garage onto the lawn.

Then we went to Sweetland Farms for milk and cream, and to the Farmers' Market for raspberries and blueberries, and then we all came home for lunch and Grampa had a nap.

Grandma could not attend because of her injuries. She is up and walking today. She really does well with a low continuous narcotic aboard. We have kept a sitter handy at all times to hinder her from lifting and doing other actual work. This has been only partially successful.