Sunday, June 13, 2004
The Adventures of Cosmo, the Mostly Good Dog, Adventure the Sixth: Board Sports
Cosmo has always been friendly to almost everybody. The big exception was anybody on a skateboard. Cosmo would hear the low rumbling of a skateboard’s wheels and he’d go right to Defcon 5. His fur would puff out and his neck would get thicker, his ears would pivot forward into ‘threat interdiction’ mode; his tail would stop wagging and he’d make a noise like a slab of concrete being dragged slowly over another slab of concrete. We’d tried to calm him down by walking him around skateboards, even buying one ourselves and feeding him on it or trying in our clumsy way to ride it around him - but it was no use. Our skateboard was no threat – it was an allied skateboard. But if he saw a board in someone else’s arms, or someone zipping along on one, he’d start growling and snorting and pawing the ground with a threatening little hop he’d perfected quite early on. When boarders saw this, most of them crossed the street or at least got off their boards around us. We never knew why the dog hated skateboards so much, and we didn’t want to know what he’d do if he got him one.
I found out anyway. He was several years old and we were playing off-leash down in a forested gully in the Presidio where we often went to chase pinecones and tennis balls. We’d been at it for some time when Coz picked up his head in a distinctively different way. “What is it, boy?” I was thirty yards down the hill from him; I knew as he turned and charged that there was no way I could ever catch up with him.
He galloped 100 yards up the steep rugged path and out over the top, which debouched into a good-sized hillside paved out into a parking lot. Four or five teenaged boys were standing out on this lot practicing skateboard skills on the steady gentle grade. One of the boys had just started a run down the hill. Coz quickly caught up with him. Really, there was no contest.
I had finally gotten up out of the gully in time to have a clear view of what Coz did when he finally caught himself a skateboarder: he charged at the boy and removed him from the board with a solid two-paw chuck to the torso. The boy’s feet left the board; he landed heavily on the pavement with an expression of understandable consternation on his face. The skateboard flipped over, resting on its face, its wheels spinning silently and impotently.
The dog stopped, braced himself, and looked around - at the boy, at the board, at the world - with deep resentment and suspicion, and maybe a tiny bit of satisfaction. I approached the tableaux of boy, board and dog, all frozen in place for their own reasons. I took Coz’s collar in hand and attached the leash, corrected him vigorously, and walked him briskly home.
I never again let him play unfenced and off-leash after that. Those skateboarders pop up when you least expect them, you know. And even now, in these difficult days as an old man with much pain and medication to overcome, when he hears that low rumbling sound, he grumbles and puffs and tries to protect us from it. It’s not that the skateboarders make me feel threatened, but Cosmo’s response sure makes me feel safe.
Thanks - many many thanks - to all of you who have been concerned about the dog. He is starting to walk on his injured leg a little, and is more comfortable and happier than he’s been in a while. Recuperation is slow and ongoing but all of us here appreciate your support and good wishes.
