So I’m out for a walk in between Kansas City storms. Me and the dog are about half an hour in, right in the middle of a discussion on whether the accents in The Snapper or The Commitments are better.
The dog, being American and unfamiliar with the nuance of Dublin accents, is pushing for The Snapper, and ignoring my explanation that funnier film Frears’ Barrytown adventure may well be, but the accents are all over the place compared to Parker’s earlier salute to Dublin and soul music.
Before the dog could reduce matters to ridicule by introducing The Van, out of the bushes straight towards us comes bounding a rabbit being chased by a cat. The rabbit manages to stop just four feet in front of the dog, and a few feet further away the cat freezes except for eye movements to stare at both the dog and the rabbit.
Now the reason I never let the dog off-leash on such walks is because typically in a one-hour walk we pass two hundred squirels and fifty rabbits, and let’s just say my voice control isn’t on a par with Darth Vader’s.
But rather than the usual fits a rabbit nearby would induce, or the impending apocalypse that a cat within 100 feet prompts, the presence of the two different species, and so close, froze the dog.
I come out of my surprised trance before the three animals, giving me just enough time to whistle the theme tune to The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. At that, Eli Wallach then decides it might not be wise to continue pretending he’s not a rabbit who’s not even there, and so darts one direction and down a hole.
Rather than pursue, Lee Van Cleef darts the opposite direction and straight up a tree. And my dog, the one with no name, being American and democratic with it, tries to go both directions in chase of both fleeing animals.
Science is not my strong point but attempting to go two directions 180 degrees opposite of each other means you don’t actually go anywhere but instead wrestle with tremendous inner-conflict in an apoplectic fit of self-righteous rule.
I was so glad nobody came passing so I wouldn’t have to explain what my dog was doing. And I spotted a chance to win the Barrytown discussion.
-To be honest Dog-dog, I think you’re being swayed by the scene with the back-garden dog poop being cleaned up. Especially with you being a small dog.
Every day in Kansas City, maybe because I cycle and walk, I see dozens of rabbits regardless of season. In Ireland the only rabbits I’ve ever seen in the city are bunny rabbits, in hutches and not tormenting cats and dogs.
Right now as I type this I can see a couple out front, sitting still pretending they’re not there, in that rabbit kind of way, and successfully from my watching dog’s point of view.