Simon’s real dachshund stubbornness comes out at times when we go for a walk. We love walks, and go one of two ways. Either Simon and I go with my wife and our other two dogs, Frollie and Dexter, to the Berea Municipal Utilities parking lot to take the new hiking trail out into the country, past the golf course, over the bridge in the woods, along Silver Creek, out to Short Line Pike and then back. The distance is up to two miles, depending on how much of it we walk. Or, Simon and I go alone, down Fairway to Forest, left up Forest to Center, and then right at the four-way stop down Center Street to the Log House. Out of town or in town. Each way has its own delights and its own frustrations.
Simon loves walks and he usually will go where I want him to go, but not always. I suspect, in spite of evidence to the contrary, he thinks he is taking me for a walk because he is always out in front on the lead. What else would lead mean, after all. But there are times when he doesn’t want to go the way I want to go. When that happens he drops behind a bit, plants his feet and simply stops. I continue on, the lead drops behind and becomes taut. I turn to see what he is doing and find him standing in the middle of the sidewalk with his feet planted and his ears perked. “Come on Simon.” I tug the line a bit. He just looks at me. He doesn’t budge. I never know what the problem is or why that way is not as good as this way. Sometimes he will give in and move forward. Sometimes I give in and see what he wants to do. What he usually wants to do is go a different direction. Well, I think, it is his walk too. Why not? So off we go in a different direction, and all is yet again copacetic.
Once when we were going the country route, for some reason, about fifty yards down the trail, he decided he did not want to go that way that day. He planted his feet and wouldn’t budge. Nothing I could do or say would make him move. Unfortunately I find the image of a small black dog refusing to move rather funny, and I started to laugh. My wife was getting impatient, however. “He’s a dog. You’re a man. Show him who is boss.” Sure. “Here, give me the lead,” she said. I gave her the lead. She immediately turned and started down the blacktop, Simon behind her. Simon held his ground; without turning around, she pulled harder, and of course his collar came off. I laughed some more, inside. I went and got Simon, put his collar back on, turned around and walked back to the parking lot with him, then up the hill toward town. All was well, and the rest of the walk went smoothly.