Penny the Biker
Penny my 4 year old boxer is a true biker. Unlike me. Yeah, I talk like a biker and have friends who are bikers, but I'm more of a motorcyclist who prefers to ride Harleys. Why don't I qualify? Because I've read both of David Hough's "Proficient Motorcycling" books, I wear wussy boy protective gear with sissy fleece, and I really hate it when my friends relieve themselves on my jacket. I hate to admit it, but as a biker I'm a poser.My dog, however, is not. This morning she accompanied my daughter and me to the bus stop. She was in a great mood, jumping and spinning in the air, intimidating stray leaves who blew into her turf, snorting a lot. Because the temps had dropped into the low 30's, my daughter decided it would be a good opportunity to try out the new gear my wife bought Penny: a doggy fleece blanket. It covers her entire torso and is held in place by a big velcro belt.
She wrapped it around Penny and off we went to meet the bus. Instead of alarming the squirrels and head-butting the German Shepherds across the street (who can't chase her off because they're restrained by an invisible fence), Penny lumbered beside me, her head down.
When we reached the bus stop, she sat down at my feet. That's unusual. At this point in our morning walks she's usually tormenting the Newfoundlands behind the fence across the street or digging up shrubery somewhere. My daughter thought it was because she was comfy and warm.
I wasn't so sure. I've been around enough bikers to recognize an extinguished spirit. So I took off the blanket.
Penny jumped so high she almost vaulted over me. Back to jumping, spinning, doing burnouts in suburbia. Penny was not about to sacrifice freedom of movement for comfort. No how, no way. She's rather shiver and run the open road. Like the true biker that she is.
