Travels With Tucker

I believe I have secured the fence for now. Yesterday The dog stayed in the yard all day. I did take him with me when I went into town just as a precaution but left him home while I had dinner with my Mom later last night. He was still there when I got back.

Feeling secure about the fence one would think I could now devote some time to commenting on current events such as Nancy Pelosi carving out an exception from the minimum wage law for American Samoa to benefit a large corporate concern in her district. Or perhaps Harry Reid's attempt to water down the anti pork barrel bill. I might have something to say about the illegal immigrants protesting states that will no longer use citizen's taxes to finance their collage tuition or expound on Hugo Chavez' nonsense about Jesus being "the greatest socialist ever." That I would do except I have a Big White Dog.

The steel company called to let me know my order was ready. I'm making iron handrails for the steps. Steel comes in 20 foot lengths so to save shipping cost I hooked up our flatbed trailer to go into town and pick it up. Before I left, my wife called from SC where she is visiting her Mother. When I mentioned going to get the metal she suggested that I take the dog along to make sure he did not escape while I was gone.

"Really, I think I have the fence secure." I said.

"Oh, but I just worry that he'll get out and go out to the road."

Well...OK I'll take him." Somewhat disingenuously since I was already thinking I might just leave him and not say anything.

When it was time to leave I seriously considered not taking him but the way things have been going it would be just my luck that he would get out and then I would have to face the wrath. Getting him in the truck is no easy task. He is the most suspicious dog in the world. The only time he gets in voluntarily is when he is standing in the middle of the road waiting for his ride home after his latest escapade has worn him out. I capture him, push him in and off we go.

Once under way he settles onto the seat with his head on my leg. I give him lots of pets to help him learn that traveling is fun. It all seems to be going just fine, until I get into town. The main street through Manassas, VA is two tight lanes with some parking on the side. The trailer I'm pulling is as wide as they come. Just when I need the passenger side mirror to see how much clearance I have from the parked cars Tucker decides to stand up and look around. I can't see a thing. To avoid hearing the sickening sound of tearing metal I hog the lane next to me only irritating a half dozen people.

Arlington Iron Works is maybe the last company in the US to not have a computerized order system. The man at the order desk has no clue where my order is after a half hearted effort perusing the slips on his desk and tells me he's sorry but my order is not there. I patiently explain that I got a call from a guy named Manny this morning and scheduled pick up at 1:30.

"Do you want me to call him?" He asked.

"No, I'll just turn around and drive twenty miles back home because you're an idiot." Is what I wanted to say but I just said "Please."

With order in hand I pull the truck and trailer to door #1. The man inside asks that I back the trailer into the warehouse. My wife is an expert at backing the trailers. I have seen her put a horse trailer into the narrowest of places with ease. I however had to attempt to put that flatbed trailer into that warehouse door a dozen times before I finally succeeded. As I was working at not taking out a portion of the building it started to rain so I rolled down my window to see better. I got out to help them load the steel, thanked them and walked back to the truck. When I opened to door there was no Big White Dog inside. He had jumped out the window!

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles scream and shout.

I called as loud as I could "Tucker, Tucker." Which in that neighborhood was likely misunderstood as something else. With each moment I became more angry. I did what any Deacon of a Baptist Church would do, I stomped my feet throwing up my hands and yelled, "That stupid dog! Now I have to spend the rest of the day running around this town looking for a damn dog!" People passing by must have thought I was a lunatic. They were right. That dog was driving me nuts. Then I had an idea. I would call my wife and tell her what a wonderful idea it was to bring the dog along. Then I remembered that I had left my phone at home. AHGGGGG!

Realizing that it was really a good thing for me that I did not have my phone, some rationality began to come back. I began to form a plan. In front of the steel plant is a building used by the Corrections Dept. as a work release facility. The way I was acting they may have thought there was an escape. I headed there to let them know I was looking for a Big White Dog and if they saw him how to contact me. As I approached the building from the west a corrections officer got out of his car and was coming from the west end. I was about to get his attention when out of the bushes behind him Tucker poked out his head.

Putting out my hand I said, " Come on now, playtime is over. It is time to go home."

Officer Friendly looked at me quite perplexed and I think he was reaching for his gun. I stopped and told him I was talking to the dog while pointing behind him. He turned.

"Oh my God!" He said when he saw Tucker.

I quickly ran a grabbed the dog. Another officer came out to look at him. We had some gentle conversation and I left.

I got home and saw that my wife had called my cell phone at about the same time I was looking for Tucker. I called her while thinking how fortunate I was that I did not have my phone with me. After I told her of the latest adventure with Tucker she mentioned how very boring it is in Camden, SC. I might let her take the Big White Dog with her the next time she goes to see her Mom. That should solve the boredom thing.

Canine Carnival 9 at Pamibe






politics, oil, immigration, Big White Dog, Pelosi