I've really been feeling bad for Chandler and Sasha this week. I haven't been able to take them for their daily walks since last Thursday evening, and they've let me know about it. Sasha, of course, by shitting and pissing in my bathroom. Chandler, by sitting in front of me while I sit reclined in my chair, and giving me sad puppy dog eyes. If I'm not in too much of a pain killer stupor, I will either drag myself out to the kitchen, and let them out, or yell across the house for Mark to do it. If I am passed out, and miss the allotted time, that's when Sasha will leave one of her little calling cards.
Last night I decided that maybe my knee was good enough that I could take them for a short walk to the corner and back. To help me, I enlisted Mark. I figured I could give Mark little Sasha, and I'd be able to control Chandler. Unfortunately, Chandler was so overwhelmed with excitement that I couldn't handle his pulling. My knee still being very unstable, it was obvious he might yank me down, so I switched dogs with Mark. That proved to be a bad idea.
I glanced down to take Sasha's leash, and when I looked back up all I could see was the back side of Mark disappearing around the corner with him screaming for Chandler to stop. With a bit of effort, I hobbled around the corner in time to see Mark still being dragged along, still screaming. I called for Chandler to come. Once again Mark was jerked down the street, this time back towards me, still screaming, "Stop goddamnit, stop...... ".
Obviously I shouldn't have expected Mark, who outweighs Chandler by only ten pounds, to be able to control him. Chandler is a headstrong dog who needs all two hundred pounds of my weight, and two stable knees to keep him in line. I'm afraid the dogs will have to go out back for a little while longer. I can't afford for Mark to be dragged to death. At least not until my knee heals.