Happy ‘Bout the Leash

Today we left the state park, and it was cloudy and cold. I didn’t like the idea of getting on the bike early but the Companion insisted. He found a bike path for us to go down, and it was really quiet. I like the quiet. And it was above the road, kind of on the mountain side (the mountain we crossed the night before.)

He said he was looking for a boat that would take us across the river. We were not really near the river. He said he could see the river and he kept looking over his shoulder. Then he said: There it is. Now we have to find a way down to it. He found a path that lead straight down to the road.
And off he goes, yelling: your doing fine, we are going really fast. But he didn’t look at me. The path was so steep that my hind legs slipped out of the cab, and I was left hanging by the leash. My front paws holding on to the bedding.

It was scary. I thought I was going to be left behind, but that leash held me, held me tight. When the companion saw me, he was a bit: oh mygawd! Why didn’t you bark. Then he petted me and told me how brave and proud he is of me. But he told me to bark and let him know next time.