On a chilly, cloudy February afternoon, the Cash’s Mill Road farm dogs were curled up tight and napping. A blustery northwest wind was sweeping across the north Texas prairie, nipping noses, tails, and toes exposed. There wasn’t a sound, except icy air whistling across barbed wire. Then came a bicycle.
Then came the farm dogs. Maybe they weren’t sleeping all that well. Maybe they were bored. Maybe a heated chase, punctuated with emphatic barking, would warm up their insides. From under porches they came. From beds beside pickup trucks, from downwind of the propane tank, and from behind the hay bale they came. We all know the drill.
So into the wind they drilled. They chased, and the bicycle rider lowered his head and lifted the pace. The subtle sounds of the wind was swallowed up in labored breathing, staccato barks, and paw nails tapping on rough county road asphalt. Beyond the sequence of farm dog territories, silence returned, but this is a 2-rep drill. The bicycle turned around and headed downwind.
Then came the farm dogs. Maybe they didn’t make it back to their beds. Maybe they’d already recovered from the sprint. Maybe they were stretched out, warmed up and ready. From under porches they came. From beds beside pickup trucks, from downwind of the propane tank, and from behind the hay bale they came. We all know the drill.
At startling speed they drilled. With a tailwind they chased, and the bicycle rider lifted his head, coasted, and lightly braked to keep the pace just within their interest. Farm dogs labored, and barked as they drilled. The bicycle rider laughed. How long can he keep a farm dog running?
Farm dogs turn around and walk into the icy wind, for a good long way, back to their naps.