Fall has been busy with preparing for the colder temperatures and the white stuff. Plants get cut down, leaves get picked up and dogs get to play. Holly is approaching four years old. How did that happen? I’m still waiting for that magical day where the flip switches and this golden retriever is a calm, mellow dog, which I was told would happen at the 2 year mark.
Holly prefers a steady diet of play. If the other dogs are here, playtime comes easy. When one has tired, there is another to step in. If there are no dogs (excluding Helen who Holly has given up as an option) then I am her main target. Toys are at my feet or dropped in my lap. She stares at me with her big begging eyes willing me to touch the toy in the slightest fashion, a two inch nudge gives her a rush and she pounces and prances until she is ready for her next fix. Endlessly. “All Done!” is my phrase, said in a firm and finalizing tone. This brings one last look, then she walks to one of her resting spots, lets go of her toy, and lays down with a huff and moan.
If we are outdoors, Holly tries to control the narrative on when playtime ends. At the cabin today we were packed up, including all dogs except Holly. She was laying down by the lake, toy in mouth, staring at us – daring us to come get her and the toy. On past occasions, I’ve told her to stay and simply walk up to her take her collar and lead her to the car. Today was different for Holly. It was just too beautiful of a day to leave and she wasn’t having it. As I approached her she would dart away trying to entice a game of chase all while harboring a little grin on her face. There was no grin on my face. DeeAnn & I each had our cars at the cabin. We drove them up the driveway and parked by the road. DeeAnn gave me a heads up that Holly was coming and that ‘she knows she’s in trouble’. Soon I see her – sulky eyes and hanging head while walking ever so gingerly towards me. I resist laughing. I resist choking her. I made some semblance of a scolding and opened the car door for her to get in. All she could muster was getting two feet up on the seat, as if her apparent total exhaustion would cushion my attitude about her naughty behavior. I hoist her into the car and shut the door. As I am driving out the windy road from the cabin, I feel a wet nose nudge the back of my ear which went right to my heart and melted it. “We’re good.” I say, and pat her nose. Holly lays down to nap the rest of the ride home, her apology had been accepted.
All done, Holly said. Let it go. .
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The Neighbors View
Nap Envy
Just Give Me a Toy
Ice Cream Break
Friday Fun
Fish Focus
Buddy System
Before the Vet Walked In
