On the flight back from LA, I got sick. A few days later, I'm still feel like there's a flesh eating worm in my throat, trying to burrow its way out.
Because of the worm, I woke up early. Before the alarm, before Tim.
I thought, hell, I'll take the dog for a walk. So Gypsy and I wander over to Madison Square Park with the sky all blustery and the breeze, finally, breaking the summer heat. Gypsy's had a little trouble "socializing" with other dogs, especially the yappy New York City variety, so I've so far avoided the notoriously rowdy dog runs.
This morning, however, the place was dead quiet -- the perfect opportunity to let the poor beast free for a few laps.
Right as I unleashed her and she was in her first bounds of exuberant disobedience, a man with a blue workers uniform entered the double gates, dogless. Shit, I thought, this guy's with the park, and we haven't yet gotten the required license. Well...We'll see if I can talk my way out of it.
The man in the blue jumpsuit speaks authoritatively to Gypsy, "Sit", "Stay", "Down", as she jumps playfully at his knees. She's getting better with commands, though, and responds to his by putting her ass to the gravel as every other part of her is squirming and wiggling, desperately wanting to do bad.
Just as Gypsy can hardly control her inner Tazmanian Devil, the man in the blue jumpsuit lost control as well. From nowhere, the man raises his arms to the air, jumpy and erratic. "Sit dog, sit" he's chanting. Quicker and louder his words come, with Gypsy getting more and more excited. This has to be a game, she's surely thinking.
As Gypsy bounces beside him, smiling her wiley smile, the man in the blue jumpsuit begins running. First slowly and then more briskly, he skirts around the tree at the center of the run. Gypsy, doing what cattle dogs do, began after him. This is, after all, is her favorite game. The man, hands still above his head, still chanting, runs faster and faster around the tree, Gypsy, all the while, at his feet. "I gotta control this dog", he repeats, "I have to control this
I'm standing, in utter disbelief. Realizing now that my "authority figure" was in fact some harmless New York retard, and my dog is herding this man around a tree in the middle of Madison Square Park at six in a very groggy morning.
My dog is herding a retard!
I love New York.