Last weekend we decided to stop by the Sport Fish Hatchery for one last look at the salmon.
We thought it would be a peaceful walk by the creek with Grover, a chance to unwind and be soothed by the fall colors and rushing water.
Of course, a 25 lb dog who thinks he’s a 125 lb dog and is convinced that his people must be protected at all times doesn’t always appreciate/understand/acknowledge the whole “peaceful vibe” thing we were hoping to find.
Things Grover finds unsettling/potential threats to our well-being:
- A flock of untended chickens, because how DARE they peck and cluck along so carelessly, acting like they own the joint.
- A pack of dogs, because WHO KNOWS where they might pee or if their wagging tails and happy licks will turn to vicious biting.
- The mallard in the middle of the creek MUST be up to no good, otherwise why would he just be standing there looking all innocent? Come to think of it, those fish are smelling awfully fishy…
I’m exaggerating a bit, but even DJ and I were startled to find dogs and chickens roaming freely at the hatchery – I thought the chickens must have staged a coop break and was worried about their safety, especially since bears like to frequent the area (later, we discovered that the rooster, a vocalist well-known to morning golfers, recently became a midnight snack for a bear passing by).
Turns out that the lucky person who lives next door to the hatchery (such a cool location to live!) lets his chickens wander and he and his dogs were just returning from a walk. They all greeted us and then moseyed home, and we continued on to our anticlimactic fish viewing.
Grover calmed down, made sure that he re-marked the area, and we called it an hour well spent.