fetch dog – the Fur-iday Files

As a blogger, I need to have an email address and I couldn’t have picked a better one. Thanks T! Adventures plus yahoo perfectly suits my zest for life!

My greatest adventure before coming to live with T and N was getting out in the play yard at the shelter with my kennel-mate Howie. It was fun, but a pretty small space when compared to my new yard. And lately, because I’ve convinced T I can be trusted off-leash, my playground has expanded to all twenty acres of the farm. Yahoo!

Another recent adventure, although it might not sound like much to you, was having a house guest, one who stayed overnight. I’d never met this person and there she was, sleeping right in our house. T said she was my auntie, but still, could I trust her in the same house with my people? All week I swung between being wildly excited to see her and barking whenever she entered a room where T and N were hanging out. It was exhausting. In the end, I was pretty smitten with her, so I think I was a better host when she returned for another few days’ stay. I hope she forgives me for my overly vigilant behaviour.

When Sus came back for the second visit, the four of us went on an adventure together. It was a return trip to the Badlands, somewhere we visited in February, but it all seemed different now. Partly because it’s spring instead of winter, but also because I feel so much better riding in a vehicle and can enjoy the journey a lot more than three months ago.

We hiked at Horseshoe Canyon, visited the giant dinosaur, had lunch at our favourite burger place (Bernie and the Boys, if you haven’t been, yum), and took a second, longer walk at Midlands Provincial Park. What a day! I was completely flaked out in my travel crate for the trip home.

In my last post, I told you about my obsession with balls. Well, I have to confess, it’s not just balls, fetching anything—a ball, a stick, a toy—is pretty much my favourite thing in the whole world. Even better than treats or cuddles, which are right near the top of my things-I-love list. Even better than the other dogs at the dog park. Give me a ball and I am gone.

Well, out in the Badlands, near the Tyrell Museum, there’s a nice fresh water pond. We’d walked about three kilometres on a warm day, so I wandered in to have a drink and cool my feet.

T asked N if he thought I’d fetch from water. Now, they don’t normally throw sticks for me because, well, I’ll just say it, they need to give me toys they can put away, so I can focus on other things, like going to the bathroom. And sticks are pretty much everywhere, which can be an issue. But, at the Tyrell pond, a stick was all they had.

This was the answer to T’s query about me fetching from water…

I thought fetching on dry ground was fun, but in the water, I never overheat! I could have gone all day! And as an added bonus, I was damp and cool for the return trip to the truck. What a world.

Today we’re headed off on another new adventure for me … something they call camping. I don’t know what that is, but if it’s even half as good as pond fetch, I’ll be one happy doggo. Yahoo.

In my four and half months out in the world, I have learned many things and had a ton of experiences, but the thing that has rocked my world more than anything, is a simple little object called a ball. Initially, T kicking a round object in the yard seemed an odd behaviour. I watched. She did it again. I watched again, probably with that head tilt she finds so endearing. And then, because I like her so much, I decided to participate in her little game and run toward the ball she’d kicked.

Oh. My. That was kind of fun. Three days later I was chasing madly after anything ball shaped, no matter the size, how far it went, how tired I was, or how much blood was in the snow. Yes, there was blood. The worst thing about the blood was that it made the game stop. No! I’m fine! Throw it again! It’s just a flesh wound!

So, after two years of not knowing what a ball even was, I have become bonkers for balls, a slave to the sphere, a glutton for globes, orb obsessed. In short: I. Love. Balls.

To give you an idea of just how far down this path of obsession I’ve travelled, yesterday I flushed a rabbit out of a clump of tall grass in the pasture, a rabbit I’ve been seeing since one of my very first walks at the farm. This was the first time we’d seen him when I was off leash. The challenge was, I’d flushed the rabbit while running after a ball T had thrown. As exciting as that explosion of white fur was, I was torn. Ball? Rabbit? I couldn’t get both.

Going for the ball at Chestermere off-leash.

Don’t worry, I’m not completely ball bonkers … I chased the rabbit. But not far. When I reached our north fence line and the rabbit was becoming a white spot in the distance, I decided the ball was a much better goal, and returned to find it. And did, of course.

The dog park in Strathmore is a ton of fun because my people aren’t the only ones throwing balls. The hitch is that each of these people comes with a ball-crazy canine like me, who will be as likely to steal my ball as chase their own. I’m pretty fast, and can usually beat them all to the ball, but the last time we visited, there was a dog there that turned into a blur when the ball was thrown. Holy wow, could she move. I had my first eating-dust experience. Can’t say I loved it. Fortunately, she didn’t run off with my ball like some of the other dogs do, but brought it right back to N for another throw. Smart girl. I learned early on that bringing the ball back to the thrower is the best way to keep the game going.

Up until this last week, there’s always been a patch of ice or snow to cool off in during my ball-chasing sessions, but that refreshment is quickly disappearing with the onset of spring. My best cool-down technique is to froggy-leg it on the snow, cooling off my whole undercarriage. Works like a charm.