Walking the Buicks.

I have a friend with four tiny dogs, and we have a mutual friend with three cats. The tiny dogs all together weigh about fifty pounds, the cats probably thirty-five. Each of my dogs weighs more than all seven of their animals. 

I tell them that walking large dog Nipper or larger dog Tralfaz is like walking a Buick being driven by a toddler. Worse is when the toddler sees someone he likes, like Grandma in her Buick; then they try to drive into each other while I try to hold them apart.

On Saturday morning in a fit of pique I wound up walking Fazzy and Nipper together, because I make stupid decisions when I am barely awake and irritated. In this case, everyone went outside to pee (well, not me, and the wife was asleep, and -- you get the idea). Fazzy was off-leash, but then refused to return from the sidewalk area. It was six a.m., no one was about, 16 degrees, and I wanted to walk Nipper, who needs exercise or he gets to be a pain. So I said, "Tralfaz, you come inside or you're coming with us." He did not budge. So I put another leash on him and off we went -- Fazzy being rather unwilling, Nipper full of excitement, and me regretting my decision after about half a block. 

Of course, Fazzy could not respond to my original ultimatum because he doesn't understand much English. Every dog lover, I am convinced, finds himself doing and saying silly things once in a while. 

Every one of them.

Walking these guys together is insane, even when they're not in a mood to misbehave. One dog will stop and sniff something while the other wants to charge ahead; we move on four paces and the other doubles back to sniff the same thing while the first is ready to get going. I get tied in knots. 

Longtime readers (may peace be upon you) will know I have tried this before -- all the way back in 2017 I wrote about trying to walk the dogs, and getting that one perfect moment when they both totally behaved and walked in unison like a dogsled team. That happened yesterday too. In my mind's ear I could hear the observers: Look at that man! What a manly man is he, commanding those two mighty dogs! He must be a true leader of men! Well, I don't like to brag, but...

And then they try to wishbone me -- make a wish and tear off in opposite directions.

On the bright side, no one got hit by a car. We're thinking about making that our family slogan.

The Bunch o' Keys 
On the bright side, no one got hit by a car. 

Or torn in half, which is also good.