We had a few inches of wet snowfall in my area recently and, during the storm, I took my dog out. For some reason, he found a section of brick lying near the house and decided that it would make a fun toy. Yes, he’s weird like that, lol. Anyway, the snow started sticking to the brick as he moved it along the ground with his feet. The thickening snow on the surface made it hard for him to pick up, so he tried to get the snow off by rolling it. Unfortunately, his doggie brain couldn’t process the fact that pushing it, it only added to the amount of snow sticking to the brick. In a very short time, it was encased in a snowy cube about half a foot across and kept growing as he managed to push it down a small hill. Running down to catch up with it, he started pawing at it trying to get the offending snow off and then he resorted to barking at it frustratingly. By this point, I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up, and he looked at me with this expression of, “Mom, it’s not funny!” I was finally able to get him to come inside, but the next day when we went out, he went right back to that brick and continued to try to play with it again. I gotta hand it to him, he’s a determined little guy.
Dawn seemed to rise earlier than normal the other day. The rising sun illuminated a flock of turkeys that were grazing in my front yard and congregating in my driveway. They were gathered five feet from my dining room window. The window my dog monitors all day, and apparently the wee hours of the morning as well. I was alerted to them, from my cocoon of cozy blankets and quilts, with him barking his fool head off for what seemed like an eternity. As I rolled over, I noticed my cat sitting in the window that overlooked the driveway. He looked at me and then outside and meowed his “I’m hunting birds” meow. Curiosity finally got to me, and I left the warm confines of slumber and staggered sleepily to the window and looked out. My eyes widened, I had never seen the flock so close to the house and being able to observe them so closely would have been more interesting if I hadn’t been half asleep. My bed beckoned me back to its warmth and snugness, and after telling my dog to be quiet, I returned to it and went back to sleep. Later, when I went downstairs to start my morning officially, I found my dog sound asleep on his bed in the kitchen. Evidently, his morning had left him as exhausted as I was and even the temptation of going outside failed to rouse him from his slumber. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat at the table and waited for him to wake up before we could start our day.
My dog is malfunctioning
I’ve noticed it outside
I don’t know how to describe it
Or if it can be classified.
I throw him the ball, and he runs
And catches up with it.
And then instead of bringing it back
He plops his butt down and sits.
He never brings the ball back
It’s a skill he sorely lacks.
While I’m running back and forth
He just seems to relax.
So it’s time to face the facts folks
Denial cannot be spoken
The poodle in him works just fine
But the retriever is definitely broken.