~ If I Had A Hammer ~
Ahhh…late spring’s boost in outdoor activities sure does wonders for the pack’s morale. Two-leggeds “to-be-done” lists blossom into yard maintenance, garden preparation, and for us-on-four, lizard chasing, rabbit watching…tons of good stuff.
The most important for the two elders of the pack, me and Hazel, is sunning ourselves while the two-leggeds amble about doing various tasks with various tools and armloads. Keira, proper to her heritage, follows along either out of curiosity or hoping to catch a chaseable reflection that randomly appears and disappears with Mom and Dad’s “implements o’ construction”.
Hazel told me a story on Dad once, that was before my time in this pack, when Dad and Mom were raising their first foster puppy for a friend whose agency trained and provided service dogs.
Dad had found a laser pointer in a drawer one day and was checking it to see if it still worked. Lucy, the foster puppy, unexpectedly leapt into action chasing the small red dot across the carpet, up the back of the couch only to launch through the air onto the other couch. At that point Dad quickly turned the laser off, and Lucy determinedly searched high and low for half an hour for the red dot’s return.
When the trainer stopped by to pick up the foster puppy for her public training, Dad related the laser story, and before he could comment on Lucy’s athleticism, he noticed a horrified look on the trainer’s face.
Dad was firmly but gently schooled on what not to do with a potential service dog, and chasing laser dots around the house was high on the list of what not to do. Working dogs don’t have time to be distracted by flashes and reflections.
That pretty much makes Keira a non-service dog candidate. From the time the kitchen blinds tilt open to allow the morning sun’s entrance into the living area, she keeps an alert eye out for any chance to go from zero to sixty in pursuit of her elusive and shiny quarry.
Dad’s dress watch, at the right angle, can reflect two or more targets to tease Keira’s radar. She knows the sound of the clasp on that watch, and just the sound of Dad closing it puts her on high alert.
Keira is also the most intrigued with hooman behavior. She faithfully follows the busiest of the two-leggeds and investigates every item set down. If Dad sets down a hammer where she can reach it, she approaches cautiously at first, does full scent investigation and then one quick lick to file the memory by taste.
It doesn’t matter how mundane or boring the task involved; she gets close and watches every move.
Mentioning the hammer, we had quite a bit of fun two days ago. Dad and Keira were doing carpentry, (Dad calls it, “wood butchery”), around the corner in the second garden. Hazel and I were sunning ourselves and barely listening to Dad’s repeated travels back to the garage to get the right nails, different saw, always with Keira in tow.
Well, Dad had gotten new work jeans that had a hammer loop on the opposite side from what he’s used to. Keira, (telling us later), saw Dad put the hammer in the loop on the leg of his pants. He then went back inside to the kitchen to refill his coffee. He came back outside, looked down to the usual place he puts his hammer, and not seeing a loop there, assumed he laid his hammer down by his work area.
Keira, seeing Dad switch to “determined search” mode, began sniffing the ground in front of Dad as he walked in an effort to appear willing to assist. Dad didn’t seem to appreciate this very much. Not finding the hammer in short order, caused a repeated loop of the two of them coming past us from the south garden to the kitchen to the garage to the garden. Rinse and repeat.
On the third go around, as Sheriff of the pack, I felt it was my duty to ask Keira, what in the world was going on to create such an unrest-full sunning session.
“Dad’s looking for something, and it’s not going well”.
That was my cue. Reluctantly I got up, shook off, and blocked the patio door so Dad would have to address me when he appeared next.
“Tuck. Tuck! Move over, I’m working right now.” I looked up straight into his eyes and displayed my best “no comprendo” expression.
This caused Dad to feel he had to explain what he was doing in a short and simple manner. “I’m looking for my hammer at the moment Tuck, so I need you to give way so I can continue looking.”
I gave way to Dad and whispered to Keira “keep bumping his leg where his hammer is.”
Off the two of them went. Before I could stretch out again, Keira came around the corner with a disgusted look on her face. “Dad got aggravated on my third bump and ordered me to come by you guys and lay down. Thanks, Tuck!”
I roused Hazel and told Keira to follow. I told them to just ride it out and stay close to Dad during his pacing about. “Don’t take it personally if he gets aggravated.”
So we paced with and around Dad as he searched high and low until our slowing his determined gait made him stop and get down on one knee to probably explain to us that we needed to find something else to do. When his knee made contact with the ground, the hammer’s handle hit the side of his work boot. Keira broke into full body wag…she love’s happy endings (but not complex plot-lines).
Dad absentmindedly pet Keira’s back. Happy ending hadn’t quite occurred to him yet, as he was probably wondering how he hadn’t noticed the hammer’s handle swinging around from the loop in his pants as he clocked an eighth of a mile looking for it.
“Alright you scoundrels, let’s go get a treat.”
While we waited for Dad to catch up with us in the kitchen and dole out goodies, Hazel commented on being able to get back to sunning outside. I didn’t say anything to Hazel, but I saw Dad put his coffee up on top of the fence. We’ll probably get in another hour of searching, at least.
Ahhh…spring.
