It Went Fine

Ama walked Waffles all by herself. She says it went fine.

Mum and Mama said I could walk Waffles once around the block. By myself. I knew the rules. Hold the leash. Stay on the path. Don’t let him eat anything. “Easy,” I said, and off we went.

We walked at a nice, sensible pace, the way grown-ups do. I held the leash the whole time. With both hands. It went fine.

We stopped to look at the tulips at number twelve. I stayed on the path, because that’s the rule. Waffles looked at them from a bit closer. It went fine.

Then we met a squirrel. Waffles said hello. I said hello. The squirrel didn’t say anything. It just went up the tree. So we went around the tree. And around. And around…

Next there was a puddle. Only a small one. I know about puddles. You go carefully around the edge, so nobody gets wet. It went fine.

The most important rule was: don’t let him eat anything. And Waffles didn’t eat anything. Not one bite. He was only carrying it.

At the corner we stopped, because you always look both ways. Left. Right. Left again. I took my time. Waffles was so patient. He didn’t make a sound.

Then we walked home at a nice, sensible pace. Nobody pulled. Nobody barked. It was the easiest bit of the whole walk.

Mum and Mama were waiting on the steps. “How did it go?” said Mum. “Fine,” I said. “It went fine.” “And Waffles?” said Mama.

I looked at the leash. I looked at the collar on the end of it. There was no Waffles in it. Then we all heard it, through the front window. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Waffles had walked himself home. Thump, thump, went his tail. That’s dog for “It went fine.”