I left the house around 6:30 this morning, headed for the AADE Dallas Shoot at the Dallas Gun Club. My plan was to leave my house at 6 a.m., but I was a bit delayed by Zack the Wonder Dog.
MLH spent the night in Pecos last night because he had to be out at the lease early this morning, which translates to I had to pack my truck myself. (Yes, I am spoiled – MLH usually does it for me.) I packed most of my stuff last night, and hauled it out to the Yukon. This morning, I had to load the cooler, and my guns.
The minute I opened my car door, Zack loaded up. To him, guns and a cooler mean bird hunting season. And the little toot refused to get out of my truck. I figured out really quickly that I didn’t have to worry about him running off, so I got his food set up in the back yard, and finished packing the truck, and then set about coaxing the lad back into the house. It took me quite a while. The usual commands didn't work..."House, Zack." "Get out." "Here."
And then, when I did get Zack back in the house, he decided to lay down on the rug right inside the front door, facing the back door. This was a first. Usually, he is standing at the front door, facing the front yard, begging to be let out in the front yard. But no, this morning, he lays down on the rug. It was like he was saying, “No way, Mom. I’m NOT going in the back yard. You loaded your guns in the truck. That means I go, too.”
It took me another good ten minutes to coax Zack into the back yard.
And all day long, I've been feeling guilty about leaving him.