Well – if you don’t then you would not pass Dogs Blog 101 – that’s for sure.
This is the highlight of my week – apart from getting that yummy liver stuff for dinner or maybe going on an unexpected shopping trip with mom.
Point is… I really look forward to these walks.
Mind you, whilst the walks are nice, the ball playing at the top of the veld is the best part of the whole thing.
The meat on the bone, to use canine terminology. (Sheesh – Professor Pants must be rubbing off on me – I’m quite a smart Fudgie-wena today.)
I charge up the little hill and wait impatiently for mom to finish trudging up.
Then I dash off.
Alpha usually makes me come back and start dashing afresh.
When it’s very dry the ball hops and bounces and there is not much grass around.
But when it’s been raining, the grass grows tall and the ball hits the ground – splodge – and stays there.
I have to hop over the grass like some demented antelope in order to get to it.
Wet or dry – it’s all great fun.
The other day the grass was sort of up to my elbows and we were doing our usual thing.
Two elderly ladies were walking briskly up the path.
Mom smiled at them.
Normally people think I’m ever so cute and can’t believe how incredibly fast and sleek I am dashing around that field.
Not this time. One old dame yelled at Mom and Alpha. “Mind out for the Kiewit’s nests.”
Eish! I’ve been running in that bit of the veld for four years now and nobody has ever yelled at me before.
They told us to go and play ball by the wall – where there are those horrible thorns that get stuck in my paw-pads so that mom has to come and rescue me.
Besides, I thought trees existed so birds could nest in them.
For a few weeks we made another plan.
We played ball on the pathways – which is not half as much fun. We passed the old meanies a couple of times and they always gave us hairy eyeballs – even if we weren’t doing anything wrong.
Last week we got to the veld and it had all been mowed flat!
So much for the Kiewit’s nests hey.
* Ginny Stone
