When traveling East on I20, I liked to listen to the oldies rock stations. I'd bring music, but I'd get tired of it after a while and start playing the radio. All the oldies rock stations seemed similar along there. As soon as I'd get out of range of one, I'd find another. They'd be playing, basically the same stuff and the same commercials.
Smid would sometimes start acting oddly when were riding along. He'd start in the front passenger seat but then he'd start trying to ride in my lap. Then he'd go back to the passenger seat. Then into the back seat and/or the back floorboard. Sometimes he'd try and ride in the front floor near the brake and clutch pedals. A no-no. It would get tough fighting him off. It's hard to drive a 5-speed with all of his antics going on. He'd eventually calm down and go back to sleeping in the front seat.
It took some time to figure out what was bothering him. I started out thinking he was just a freaky little dog or he was losing it or he was getting senile. Then I noticed this cell phone commercial that came on the radio. They did their spiel and they'd play some sort of high-pitched cell phone noise. I noticed Smid started freaking out, right after that. It was the noise that was bothering him. You know how they are with commercials. They play the same ones over and over. I had to stay alert and shut the radio off before that tweeting noise, that was bothering him, came on.
One other time, we got caught in a thunder storm in Southern Alabama. I was trying to get to Meridian MS, before dark, to get to the Motel 6. Suddenly a large cloud moved in and it started raining extremely hard. It was one of those rains where I was leaning on top of the steering wheel and trying to see out the front window. I wanted desperately to pull over but I couldn't see what was on the side of the road, or even if there was a side of the road. Every time I looked into my rear-view mirror, all I could see were the lights of the semi that seemed to be on my back bumper.
It was a loud storm. Lots of thunder and lightening. The rain on the roof of the car was loud too. The whole thing freaked Smidley completely out. He shook and shook. He was inconsolable. I talked to him. I held him. I told him he was an itty-bitty baby. Nothing worked. Even after a nights sleep, he was freaky. I went to a few places I had planned on going, but Smid was freaking me out too. We ended up going home after a couple of days instead of three or four days, like I'd planned. Sidney was a great companion, usually. He was good company. But not when he was being freaky like that.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Travel Dog
In his day, Smid wore many hats. Or he would have, if he could have gotten one over his mo-hawk, or his ears. Sometimes, Smid was a Travel Dog.
I used to take genealogy researching trips. I left him at home on short trips but if I thought I was going to be gone for a while, like when I had a week off, I'd take Smid with me. Motel 6 became a big player because they accept small pets. I went into one, one time, and the lady behind the counter asked if he was small. I looked over my shoulder and pointed toward the car. Smid was up on his hind legs with his paws on the steering wheel. I pointed toward the car and said, "there he is." She said, "yeah, he's small." I said, "he's itty-bitty." That was an inside joke. You could sweet talk Smid and he'd get all fuzzy and bat his eyes, especially if you told him he was an itty-bitty beebee (baby). He ate that up for some reason.
One of the deals with taking Smid was frequent bathroom breaks. There's a roadside park on Highway 69, North of Minela Texas that I glance at, to this day, when I drive by. I think to myself, there's Smid's place. He tried to take the bark off of many a tree at that roadside park. You'd have to watch him because he'd try and lift his leg on all of the trees at the park. The little fella only had so much water. After a while, he was only ritualistically hiking his leg, symbolically urinating. I have better things to do with my time than watch that.
Since we'd usually head East on I20, we stopped at many roadside parks. He'd take his time at each one. He'd sniff around until he found just the right spot. It was at the Motel 6 when I discovered his "finish" trigger word. It was some handy information to know. Especially when the wind was blowing.
I used to take genealogy researching trips. I left him at home on short trips but if I thought I was going to be gone for a while, like when I had a week off, I'd take Smid with me. Motel 6 became a big player because they accept small pets. I went into one, one time, and the lady behind the counter asked if he was small. I looked over my shoulder and pointed toward the car. Smid was up on his hind legs with his paws on the steering wheel. I pointed toward the car and said, "there he is." She said, "yeah, he's small." I said, "he's itty-bitty." That was an inside joke. You could sweet talk Smid and he'd get all fuzzy and bat his eyes, especially if you told him he was an itty-bitty beebee (baby). He ate that up for some reason.
One of the deals with taking Smid was frequent bathroom breaks. There's a roadside park on Highway 69, North of Minela Texas that I glance at, to this day, when I drive by. I think to myself, there's Smid's place. He tried to take the bark off of many a tree at that roadside park. You'd have to watch him because he'd try and lift his leg on all of the trees at the park. The little fella only had so much water. After a while, he was only ritualistically hiking his leg, symbolically urinating. I have better things to do with my time than watch that.
Since we'd usually head East on I20, we stopped at many roadside parks. He'd take his time at each one. He'd sniff around until he found just the right spot. It was at the Motel 6 when I discovered his "finish" trigger word. It was some handy information to know. Especially when the wind was blowing.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Smid...in song.
Melissa and I had the habit of slipping Smid's name in the midst of song lyrics. They just seemed to fit. We'd play something in the car and sing along to whatever, sometimes. It depended on the song. I'm a Poconut so something Poco related might be playing.
An example would be Timothy B. Schmit's CD, "Tell Me the Truth" & the song, "Something Sad". It contains the lyrics, "something sad about it baby". That can easily be changed to "something sad about it Smidley". One day we were riding with that song playing and singing along. When we got to that part, Melissa's friend, E.D. asked,"is that where you got Smid's name?" Melissa and I just laughed and explained. To look at Smid, you wouldn't expect him to inspire song, but inspiration is where you find it. "ssssSmid!"
I saw the song on YouTube the other day and just had to link it on Facebook and, yep, I sang along and thought of Smidley. There's something sad about it...and worth a smile.
An example would be Timothy B. Schmit's CD, "Tell Me the Truth" & the song, "Something Sad". It contains the lyrics, "something sad about it baby". That can easily be changed to "something sad about it Smidley". One day we were riding with that song playing and singing along. When we got to that part, Melissa's friend, E.D. asked,"is that where you got Smid's name?" Melissa and I just laughed and explained. To look at Smid, you wouldn't expect him to inspire song, but inspiration is where you find it. "ssssSmid!"
I saw the song on YouTube the other day and just had to link it on Facebook and, yep, I sang along and thought of Smidley. There's something sad about it...and worth a smile.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)