The Adventures of Zelda: A Pug Tale

Chapter 8: Zelda vs. the Leaf Pile

From my perch on top of the couch, I watch the leaves blow from the trees, and the squirrels scurry through the yard. The hot and humid days of summer are gone for now, and the cool breeze feels great ruffling through my fur.

The weather is perfect for pug walking. I take long walks with the family in this weather. In the mornings, I walk with Hannah, and when Ben and Lucy return home in the afternoon, the family goes together.

This morning, Hannah finds her hoodie and yellow shoes, sits down, and ties her shoes. I run to her and grab the shoelaces with my mouth. I try to help her tie the yellow shoes, but she pushes me away. I wait by the door until she is ready.

We head out the door a couple minutes later; I veer to the left. Hannah follows my lead, and we turn right onto Edgewood—my favorite street. A canopy of large oak and maple trees line both sides of the street, creating shade on the sidewalks at any time of the day. The big trees attract squirrels and chipmunks—animals I love to chase. The houses are filled with dogs of all shapes and sizes.

My favorite spot on this street is a light post on the corner of Edgewood and Meadowfield. The light post sits at a popular intersection. With many dogs passing by the light post, every visit introduces me to a new smell. I love the light post. I lead the way down Edgewood, pulling Hannah along behind me.

Squirrel!

I spot the first squirrel midway down Edgewood. The squirrel is on the opposite side of the street, out of my reach, so I ignore its taunting. A second squirrel runs up a tree in the next yard on our side of the street. I charge forward, sprinting four strides before Hannah yanks me backward.

"Zelda, calm down!" Hannah yells. I ignore her and press forward. The tree is a few pug steps away.

I want that squirrel. It's so close.

When I reach the tree, the squirrel stands a few branches above me. I jump up and try to gain traction on the tree trunk.

"Let's go!" Hannah pulls me away from the tree and the squirrel. I walk a few paces and sit in the grass, disappointed. Hannah pleads with me to keep walking. I lie on the grass and look at the street ahead.

The light post!

I dart up and run towards the corner light post at the end of the street. As I approach the corner, I sneeze. Something isn't right. I don't smell the normal mix of dog scents, so I slow to a walk. Ahead, I see the source of the problem. Something is on top of the ground around the light post. I walk with caution to the corner.

As I approach the corner, I realize the barrier is a collection of leaves in one big pile. I stop and stare at the leaf pile. Why would anyone put a bunch of leaves in a pile? And why did they pile the leaves on my corner light post? Is the pile covering up something?

I step closer, sniffing to examine the pile, but my nose doesn't provide any hints about the leaf pile. Walking straight into the pile could be a trap. What if there are thorns in it?

I decide to ignore the leaf pile and the corner light post for today. It's too risky. I bet the pile will be gone tomorrow.

Hannah and I stroll past the elementary school and through the park. I see two more squirrels, but I don't catch either one. When we arrive home, I'm thirsty and tired. I drink a bowl of water and sprawl across the couch.

On our walks the next few days, I lead my family to the corner light post, but the leaf pile remains. Since the leaf pile seems permanent, I lead Nate in the opposite direction of our normal route, hoping to find a new favorite smell spot. We turn down Sunbrook. I haven't walked on Sunbrook in several days. Huge oak trees line the yards on Sunbrook, but the lack of dogs causes me to steer away from Sunbrook most days. I like streets with action and excitement.

While we walk down the street, I notice something strange in the distance. I pick up the pace; I recognize the similar shape. It's another leaf pile. Confused, I keep walking.

When we reach the corner of Sunbrook and Meadowfield, I turn left towards Edgewood. When I turn the corner, I see another leaf pile. My excitement rises. Since more leaf piles have appeared, maybe the other leaf pile will be gone. We pass the elementary school, and Nate stops to talk to the man in the blinding yellow shirt. I want to see the light post. I bark and pull Nate forward.

We arrive at the corner light post, and my frustration returns at the sight of the leaf pile. I sigh, ignoring the squirrel running across the street. I am too distraught by the leaf piles everywhere. They surround fire hydrants, tree trunks, and light posts. I don't know what to do.

When we return home, Nate takes a seat on the couch and turns on the television. I curl up in his lap and fall asleep, trying to forget about the leaf piles.

I awake later in the afternoon. I feel refreshed and light-hearted from my nap. Nate asks if I want to go outside. I answer by waiting at the front door. He takes me out to the backyard. I notice the grass is covered with red, yellow, and orange leaves. I hear a noise and look at the next yard over. I see Don, our neighbor, working outside in his flower beds. He rakes the leaves out of the flower beds into a pile.

He's making a leaf pile!

I dash in the direction of the front yard, but Nate pulls me the other way, inside the back door. I have to wait to test my theory.

After dinner, Nate grabs my harness. I am so excited for this walk that I run at least twenty circles around Nate before he catches me to put on the harness.

When he opens the door, I lunge forward, pulling Nate on a search for a leaf pile. There are none on our street, so we turn onto Edgewood. I see a leaf pile across the street, and I pull Nate in that direction. He obliges, and we cross the street. I run for the leaf pile and dive into it. The leaves move out of my way and collapse around me.

I stop and smile. I am in the middle of the leaf pile. The leaves come up to my neck, but it's okay. I can breathe. There are no sharp or spiky things. The leaves feel great, and a delightful smell fills my nose. The leaf pile is better than the corner light post.

I start kicking, sending the leaves in the air in every direction."Zelda, you are getting me dirty," Nate mumbles. I ignore him. Kicking the leaves is so much fun, and the amount of leaf piles on our route is endless. I walk out of the leaf pile. I see another pile a house away. I sprint for it.