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Show H7j MaDtinimitanim XJrVj byNanChalat Out West, good leashes make dogs good neighbors When my dog and I moved out west I figured we had it made. No leash laws, no curbs, just miles of open range to roam. At that time, our back yard consisted of a fourth-floor fire escape and the nearest wilderness was a one-block-long city park. A move west seemed to promise unlimited freedom for us both. But almost as soon as we left the skyscrapers and trolleys behind, I learned that life on the frontier wasn't going to be that simple. At the first highway rest stop west of Cheyenne my dog walked across a field of thorns and I had to carry her back to the truck. Since then, I've learned a few things about my sweet civilized canine and the rules of the open range. We are not as free as we thought we would be but at least, seven years and a few porcupine quills later, we are still together. - I have learned, for instance, that my lady-like dog, though terrified of cows, occasionally likes to scent herself with eau de cow pie. And while she is out there rolling in the pasture, 1 am also aware that any dog caught worrying cattle, which is to say, is in the same field with a rancher's livestock, may be shot. It is an open and shut case the rancher is not required to show proof the dog harmed his cattle. If he can, however, the dog owner may find himself buying a few calves or lambs. I have also learned over the years that my usually obedient dog has a tendency to become selectively deaf when there is a choice between listening or taking off after a deer, fox or rabbit. Fantasies of bird watching with my' faithful companion obviously didn't take her natural instincts into account. I've spent hours seething with rage and worry waiting for her to return from an independent dash through the sagebrush. As a result I've also spent my share on vet bills for lacerated paws, bee stung muzzles and a mouth full of porcupine quills. I am mentioning all of this, not to embarrass my dog in public, but because it is spring and her nose has been twitching in the wind. Her restlessness has reminded me that the sheep are returning from the West Desert, that there are new vulnerable calves in the pasture behind the house and that a whole forest full of wildlife is on the move, marking territory, mating and protecting litters of young animals. My dog is keenly aware of all these temptations and I realize it is up to me to restrain her enthusiasm. Another reminder came from a friend who called me to tell me his dog had died last week on a ski tour from Mill Creek Canyon to ParkWest. It is his belief, though he is still waiting for the results from the autopsy, the dog died from strychnine poisoning from eating bait left by a rancher to kill coyotes. He was grief stricken and was looking for a way to warn other dog owners of the dariger. And although I resent having something else to worry about, I appreciated his concern. Traps and poisoned bait are just another fact of life on the open range, along with rattle snakes, bad water and hornets. My dog and I have since made a truce with our surroundings. I carry a leash to use when her judgment seems to be lacking and she has learned to listen even when we are not crossing a street. I take her camping only where I know there will be ample water and tie her near my tent at night. At home she is fenced or tied while I'm at work, but we compensate with lots of long walks together. We've learned that freedom, as usual, carries with it a proportionate load of responsibility and that sometimes good leashes make good neighbors. |