Saturday, May 7, 2016
Fanatical Frisbee Fido
All of this might make more sense if she was a Golden Retriever or a Labrador Retriever, but Bella the mostly-Beagle is a stubby, short-legged, portly, thirty-pound ball of obsessive-compulsive canine cuteness. She doesn't actually want to play fetch, she wants the frisbee to be thrown for her, but when she brings it back, she fights you for it. She teases, dropping the frisbee from her mouth but always keeping a foot on it, never willing to let it go without a battle. So we get exercise at both ends, from throwing the frisbee and from wrestling it back away from her. Some might call that a win-win but that "some" would only be Bella.
In the meantime, I may not be gardening much but I'm getting plenty of exercise. In fact, you could say I'm bedogged by the doggone dog until I can't do my gardening. Deep down, though, I suppose I don't really mind. My exercise time is better spent increasing the rate of tail wag in a happy pooch than it is in growing alliums for hail to destroy.