Problem solving
Today was Small Boy's first morning ever on a school bus. Yes, he is 13 years old and in 8th grade, but for his entire life I had been walking him, riding him there on his bike, or his father had been driving him. But it's ridiculous to drive him now; B. prefers to take the bus to work himself. And, as much as I loved walking him to his elementary school half a mile away, and then to his middle school one mile away, I hated riding bikes to the school 2 miles away. It is just on the wrong end of town, the busy interstate-exit-area, filled with zombie minivan drivers who pay no attention to cyclists. It's also too cold with poor visibility in the misty New England mornings. We did it, though, for two years when the stars aligned (and his Dad drove hiim on the other days.)
But now he gets out of XC practice at 6 pm. He's too wiped to ride his bike, and soon it will be dark then. It's time to give up on the bike, at least for the sports season.
For all these years we've been walking right past a bus stop filled with kids going to Small Boy's middle and high schools. We always marveled that we got to the school one mile away by walking at the same time they got there by riding. Walking was so vastly preferable for all of us (dog included) that we always scoffed at the riders.
I still deeply miss those walks, even though we're starting the third year since he left a school in walkable distance. It was when I got *my* walk with the dog in the morning, and when I got some one-on-one time with Small Boy, and a way to get some oxygen into my brain first thing. It was simply a good way to start the day. I keep trying to structure my life so I can put a walk back in, but it just wasn't working without Small Boy.
So today I made Small Boy take the bus. B. and I and River all walked down to the general area of the bus stop with him about when we thought the bus was coming. We were nervous because we were the first ones there. No wonder, we got there 15 minutes early. We watched as other children arrived. Apparently the location the children gather is slightly different than I thought. It's at the end of a driveway of a house that always had two golden retrievers playing in a yard behind an invisible fence. Ela used to strain to go visit the dogs at that house across the street from the sidewalk we used, but they had each other and their fence is half-way into their yard; there was never a moment when I ran into those neighbors to ask. For nine years we passed those dogs without ever meeting them.
But this morning we finally met them. There is only one of the stately old goldens still there, now. (Maybe the other has finally met Ela in Dog Heaven.) Some of the youngest children waiting for the bus went up the driveway to play with him inside his invisible fence area. Then we spotted a bounding ball of fur and a puppy came dashing down the driveway, with a harried woman in her bathrobe yelling to stop the puppy. That was easy to do, as the puppy was headed straight for River.
The puppy is 3 months old, so four months younger than River. His name is Leonides (Leo) and he can't be trained on the invisible fence for another month, but I asked permission for River to come up and play with him when he's out. Nancy, the owner, thought that was a marvelous idea. The puppy is a burden to her aged other dog, Wallace, and any puppy play time he can eek out would be a boon to everyone. Heh. Don't I know it.
So: if I walk Small Boy to the bus stop every morning then I get outside at 7:15 in the morning and River gets a romp with a puppy her own size and B. can take the bus and I can chat with Small Boy for at least the two blocks to the bus stop, then I can continue on to give River a nice mile walk before work.
Score.
But now he gets out of XC practice at 6 pm. He's too wiped to ride his bike, and soon it will be dark then. It's time to give up on the bike, at least for the sports season.
For all these years we've been walking right past a bus stop filled with kids going to Small Boy's middle and high schools. We always marveled that we got to the school one mile away by walking at the same time they got there by riding. Walking was so vastly preferable for all of us (dog included) that we always scoffed at the riders.
I still deeply miss those walks, even though we're starting the third year since he left a school in walkable distance. It was when I got *my* walk with the dog in the morning, and when I got some one-on-one time with Small Boy, and a way to get some oxygen into my brain first thing. It was simply a good way to start the day. I keep trying to structure my life so I can put a walk back in, but it just wasn't working without Small Boy.
So today I made Small Boy take the bus. B. and I and River all walked down to the general area of the bus stop with him about when we thought the bus was coming. We were nervous because we were the first ones there. No wonder, we got there 15 minutes early. We watched as other children arrived. Apparently the location the children gather is slightly different than I thought. It's at the end of a driveway of a house that always had two golden retrievers playing in a yard behind an invisible fence. Ela used to strain to go visit the dogs at that house across the street from the sidewalk we used, but they had each other and their fence is half-way into their yard; there was never a moment when I ran into those neighbors to ask. For nine years we passed those dogs without ever meeting them.
But this morning we finally met them. There is only one of the stately old goldens still there, now. (Maybe the other has finally met Ela in Dog Heaven.) Some of the youngest children waiting for the bus went up the driveway to play with him inside his invisible fence area. Then we spotted a bounding ball of fur and a puppy came dashing down the driveway, with a harried woman in her bathrobe yelling to stop the puppy. That was easy to do, as the puppy was headed straight for River.
The puppy is 3 months old, so four months younger than River. His name is Leonides (Leo) and he can't be trained on the invisible fence for another month, but I asked permission for River to come up and play with him when he's out. Nancy, the owner, thought that was a marvelous idea. The puppy is a burden to her aged other dog, Wallace, and any puppy play time he can eek out would be a boon to everyone. Heh. Don't I know it.
So: if I walk Small Boy to the bus stop every morning then I get outside at 7:15 in the morning and River gets a romp with a puppy her own size and B. can take the bus and I can chat with Small Boy for at least the two blocks to the bus stop, then I can continue on to give River a nice mile walk before work.
Score.