Dogs, eh? Can’t live with ’em…..

………..and Sal won’t let me live without ém!

Still, all in all, our dogs aren’t all bad.  I like to say, “they are best of a bad bunch!”  This does not garner me many bonus points but a man’s gotta do…..ya know?  Anyway, the dogs don’t know what I am sayin’…………..right?

Still, this post is about dogs.  Our dogs.  Our goofy, weird, whacky duo of canine nonsense, Megan and Fiddich.  I need a scotch just thinking about them.

The point of all this?  Well, I actually do like some parts of their existence.  Not many!  But a few.  Fid is a real man’s man of a dog.  Tough, resilient, up-for-anything, leaps before he looks and thinks he is superdog.  Giant ginger ego on four feet.  I kinda like that. No idea why…………

One time he was running very fast downhill in deep brush and all you could see were the leaves moving and the tip of his tail wagging when he slammed full-speed and head first into a fallen tree.  The ‘bonk’ reverberated in the forest.  A nanoseond later he was over the tree and still charging.  A water buffalo would have been stunned.  Not Fid.

But it is Megan I am writing about now.  She is pretty funny.  She loves to play fetch even tho her back legs are kinda wobbly and it is not like our property is a gentle flat meadow.  This place is steep and anything thrown basically goes down hill.  And she goes after it with gusto.  So far, pretty normal. For a dog.

But if she wants to play fetch and we don’t, she plays fetch by herself!  Bear in mind that we live on a really steep slope.  Our deck is 18 feet off the sloping rock below and it dives more steeply after that.  Anything thrown (or dropped) from the deck will travel pretty far.  And she knows this.  So Meg will, now and then, get her ‘toy’ and push it over the edge of the deck herself.  She’ll watch it fall and roll down the hill and then she’ll run off, tail-a-wagging, and go get it.  If we say, “Meg, you do it!  You do it!” she’ll repeat the process until she is played out.

A Long Way Down

We can play fetch with her without getting out of the chair, without letting go of our wine glass or even having to touch the slimy damn ‘toy’.  That’s not all bad.

And, it gets better………

As she ages, she is getting tired more quickly.  Now she plays fetch for awhile with herself and then, after the panting gets heavy, she just sends Fid to go get it!  That’s right…………..she drops the toy over the edge of the deck and then we all look at each other for a second as if no one knows what to do?…and that is Fid’s cue to run to the rescue.  He retrieves the toy!

Behind every good stud there's a............

Repeat routine until satisfied.

Now if I could just talk them into moving out into their own place…………..

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