Country Dog

Nala the city dog went country this weekend. For the first time she got to run beyond the confines of a small, fenced yard, and I got to walk her without a leash.

Sounds simple, and great, but from the front porch of our Takoma Park colonial, the prospect of Nala off leash was daunting. This is a dog who, when she slips the leash, gleefully runs away, moving like a souped up gazelle, all muscle and motion, joyfully speeding in and out of neighbors’ yards and scaring all of us with an abandon that shows her ignorance of moving vehicles. She has gotten into the middle of a six-lane highway and we felt lucky to have gotten her back. The country place we visit is far enough from any big roads to feel safe, but I couldn’t be sure that a taste of freedom might not tempt her to mindlessly run until she was exhausted, and then not be able to find her way back.

I didn’t give her enough credit.
Nala is nothing if not loyal, and she stuck pretty close to me in her initial hours here at Misty Mountain, a sweet little spot in the mountains of Southwest Virginia. By day two, she was comfortably mingling with new friends at a party on the deck, and I’m sure had no idea where I was.

Having dogs in the country is an entirely different enterprise than it is in the city. No one goes around picking up their poop, for example. They come along for the ride when it’s time to go to the grocery store, or the beer store, or to pick up seed at the farm supply place. They do not go in these places. They wait in the vehicle patiently – or not.

Country dogs don’t wear leashes, though they do have collars and tags. They are in and out of the house all day. They have their own lives.

Nala’s country life included:
Running free through acres of woods
Swimming in the pond
Riding to the general store
Chasing a wild turkey
Carrying a dead rabbit around in her mouth – killed, I am guessing, by the resident cat
Flopping, exhausted, at my feet.

And although I suspect she would have come by all this naturally, Nala has a compadre at Misty Mountain. Daisy, the resident dog, is a chocolate lab puppy and the first dog I’ve seen out-energize Nala. (That's her in the photo, before she met Nala.) She joyfully bounded around, showing Nala her favorite runs and leaping into the pond – while Nala watched from the shore.

Our city girl’s experience with water had been limited to tentatively dipping her paws into the very shallow Sligo Creek. Curious about not only Daisy’s swimming, but the humans splashing around, she put her paws in, then backed off. One of us gave her a push off the dock and she plopped in, surfaced and swam the short distance to shore, unconvinced she’d like to do it again.

Two days of running with Daisy and watching her plunge in and out of the pond, and that began to change. On Sunday, Nala ventured in a few inches, drank some of the water and backed out. Next time, she went in up to her chest. Finally, she swam into deep water – and, as if encouraging her new friend, Daisy got in, swimming so close their sides were touching. Then the two of them got out, shook off, and ran.

Country dogs.