Modern Lore LE: Dog Walking
Dog Walking
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Flora at Echo Park Lake during the annual Lotus Festival
Emily was helping me repot plants I picked in up the Valley. This was my first snake plant, purchased because they’re supposed to be indestructible. I needed greenery around my apartment that could combat my red thumb (black thumb? What is the opposite of a “green thumb”?)
We went down to Echo Park Lake and took Flora, my chaotic, fifty pound, teenager-in-dog-years Chow Chow, with us. She rarely walks in a straight line, darts across me in zig-zags to get a sniff at another dog or to pounce on pizza crusts that seem to be in infinite supply on Los Angeles curbsides. Sometimes, she sits still.
The Lake has wide areas of green grass, but many spots were occupied on this warm November day. Emily pointed to a spot next to the water, less desirable because we’d have to sit on wood chips, where you could see the turtles up close. She asked if Flora had any interest in the water, and thinking about how we walked along the lake every day twice a day, I scoffed and said no.
As soon as we sat down, I gave Flora a loose lead on her leash. She curiously looked into the water, then jumped in.
I immediately yanked on her leash. The water only went up to Flora’s belly. She resisted for a few seconds, but then let me drag her out. Bits of green algae clung to her thick fur and she smelled like pond scum.
Emily half panicked, but I laughed. We grabbed the snake plant and went back to my apartment and repotted it on my fire escape. One of the comfort grips on my scissors fell in between metal slats, now part of a permanent collection of dried leaves and cigarette butts.
Flora got a bath, but smelled bad for days.
2019