One day we got an
invitation to go see Jim and Teresa. But they lived in
Vancouver and it was a two hour drive to visit. We packed
our good boy in the car and set off and had a wonderful
visit. But on the way back it started to rain (go figure)
and the heat, and therefore the defrost, didn't work. We
had to open the windows and you got cold. I put my coat on
you and then you got bored. So I took the tennis ball out
and played a very short game of catch in the car. You
the trip wore on, I could toss the ball from farther and farther
(inches, but still). You enjoyed your game of catch so
much that you wanted to play even at home, and we'd throw balls
to you and you loved to catch them -- you were good at it, too.
fact, Mr. Lazy Boy, you didn't like to run for the ball or play
fetch. I remember as a youngster, we took you down to the
school yard after hours and we ran into a retriever whose owner
had a tennis ball and one of those throwing arms. That
doggie was fast! You tried twice to play fetch, but she'd
get all the way across the field and get the ball and meet you
1/2 way back. You sat on your butt and watched a couple
times, then you casually walked out to where the owner was
consistently throwing the ball, sat down and waited. When
the ball came, you calmly picked it up and trotted back at your
own pace, making the poor retriever have a complete anxiety
attack waiting for you!
You did this at home, too, with
Tinkerbell. You'd both run out to get the ball, and you'd
make her let you get it as the alpha dog, but once you
"won" you weren't interested in all the work.
She'd stick her face in your mouth and grab the ball, and you'd
let her -- you even helped! Then she'd bring it back while
you waited. That way, you got to play "catch"
and she got to play "fetch".
a goofy team!