I took Rex down to Point Piños in Pacific Grove. We stayed in the car for a while-he woofing at seagulls and me woofing at the girls doing yoga in Spandex on the sand in front of me. The gulls and the girls finally disappeared, and we ventured down to the waves.
A Canada goose had been honking overhead, and dove down and glided in for a landing in front of us. Rex took immediate notice of the intrusion and looked to me for guidance.
Before I could tell Rex to honk back at the goose, it arched its neck, spread its wings, and charged my four-legged friend. Rex, rather than get into a dustup with a goose, simply sat down and wagged his tail. The goose, having been ready for a brawl and seeing Rex sitting down and wagging his tail, stopped in its tracks. (I’ll have to remember that tactic next time I’m in a barroom fight.) The goose relaxed and Rex went up to it and sat down, turning around. They both looked at me.
The reason for the goose’s immediate nasty temper became apparent: another goose flew in; probably its mate. Canada geese mate for life, I’m told, so it was probably a spouse. The three of them looked at me. I looked at them.
Was Rex on my team, infiltrating the enemy, or had he abandoned me for the company of two regal-looking fowl? I took a step toward them to test Rex’s loyalty. Rex failed-the two geese charged me and Rex stayed at the rear, wagging his tail.
Perhaps Rex really was loyal to me, and needed to prove his fake loyalty to the geese, such as a vice cop infiltrating the crime-ridden Mafia, or the Hell’s Angels, or the Lawrence Welk fan club.
As the geese charged, I had to decide whether to run away or stand up to the geese. I looked around to see if the girls in Spandex were still around-if they were, I couldn’t run away like a wimp. Rats! They were at their car watching the whole thing. One had a camera; I couldn’t run. It could be a video camera and I’d be on YouTube in twenty minutes. Eighty billion people watching a wimp at the beach running from two geese. No, I had to think fast, which has always been a challenge for me.
“Rex! You run to the left and distract the geese! I’ll run to the right and make a get-away! Meet you at the car, buddy! Save yourself!!!”
Unfortunately, that was way too much information for my little friend to assimilate and act upon. As I ran to the right, he ran toward me. I ran with all my might as the geese put it into overdrive and chased me, Rex running on their parallel flank.
“Rex!” I yelled, “for God sakes, just sit down and maybe they’ll stop! Don’t run WITH them.” Again, too much info for Rex’s walnut-sized brain.
I came to a rock the size of a Volvo station wagon. Here was my chance. A chance for what, I didn’t know, but here it was. I jumped up on the rock. The geese and Rex came to a screeching halt and I looked over to the yoga girls, as they watched a full-grown man run from two geese.
Improvising (my usual method of making it through life), I made a yoga pose and faced the Spandex contingency. “King Dancer Pose-Natarajasana!” I yelled out to the girls. They waved and came running over, and, having put away the video camera, I felt somewhat safe.
As they ran up to my rock in admiration and gleefulness, the geese ran away. Rex stayed.
“Oh,” they said, “that’s a great Natarajasana! Wanna’ do some more poses with us? Maybe you can teach us a few things!”
I looked at Rex. He looked at me. The geese were halfway down the beach chasing a teacup poodle. I looked back at the girls. “Swami Tommy at your service. Last one into the Urdhva Dhanurasana pose is a rotten egg!”
Later that night, as I was on the floor applying salves and lotions to my destroyed tendons and muscles, I looked at Rex. “The two girls are coming over tomorrow night to do some more yoga. Wanna’ bring Millie and make a five-some? Let me show you the Parsva Bakasana so you can impress your gal. They love stuff like that, you know.”
Lying on my back, I heard geese overhead. I wonder if that is them.