I opened the back door to the winter wonderland that lay before us. I was unceremoniously shoved out of the way by a rambunctious Golden Retriever named Daisy. She ripped out into the front yard bounding and sliding wildly on the ice covered snow. Dodging downed tree branches, buried flowerpots and shrubs. She suddenly stops in the middle of the yard, whips around and stares at me; I have the stick.
As I carefully navigate the terrain Daisy is leaping around in the chest deep snow, looking more like a Jack Rabbit than a dog. I reach my destination, the front yard, only to look up at the 70 lb fur-ball hurdling towards me. I quickly fling the stick in the opposite direction to avoid the inevitable collision. Daisy springs into action and tears after the mutilate piece of tree branch she adopted the night before.
As I carefully navigate the terrain Daisy is leaping around in the chest deep snow, looking more like a Jack Rabbit than a dog. I reach my destination, the front yard, only to look up at the 70 lb fur-ball hurdling towards me. I quickly fling the stick in the opposite direction to avoid the inevitable collision. Daisy springs into action and tears after the mutilate piece of tree branch she adopted the night before.
She finds her beloved and picks it up at one end, prancing around in circles like a proud parent. She runs a couple of laps of the yard with the stick dragging behind her like a gold-medal champion doing laps after a victorious race. Finally she decides to bring it back to me. I feel privileged; after all, I am only the pet sitter/photographer.
Bringing it to me really means 3 feet away. I saunter over to her as she has now on her belly chewing the end of the her beloved. As I cautiously approach she gets up and stands on the stick, burying it in the snow. I reach down to pick it up and she is all over me like bug spray, licking my face, head butting me and generally being annoying. Yet, she never takes her paws off the stick.
Bringing it to me really means 3 feet away. I saunter over to her as she has now on her belly chewing the end of the her beloved. As I cautiously approach she gets up and stands on the stick, burying it in the snow. I reach down to pick it up and she is all over me like bug spray, licking my face, head butting me and generally being annoying. Yet, she never takes her paws off the stick.
I finally shove her out of the way and dig out the piece of slimy wood from underneath her. I fling it across the yard. Ok, it was more like 3 feet because I throw like a girl. Daisy bounds off to retriever her baby. This process continues for some time. Both of us finally become exhausted from all this exercise.
I throw her beloved out into the yard, one last time, after explaining to her it is time to go. She chases after it but only picks up the very tip of it. As she drags it behind her she stumbles and digs the other end into the snow and ground. We now have the dog vs. stick fight.
After a few attempts of pulling, digging and just plain fighting with the thing, she tries repositioning her mouth. Success!.
I throw her beloved out into the yard, one last time, after explaining to her it is time to go. She chases after it but only picks up the very tip of it. As she drags it behind her she stumbles and digs the other end into the snow and ground. We now have the dog vs. stick fight.
After a few attempts of pulling, digging and just plain fighting with the thing, she tries repositioning her mouth. Success!.
She drags her beloved, slightly shorter, stick out of the front yard and into the back door of the house. Apparently playtime is over!
For Daisy it was another successful play date with the beloved stick. For me it was an opportunity to photograph a passionate dog in action.
For Daisy it was another successful play date with the beloved stick. For me it was an opportunity to photograph a passionate dog in action.
As always comments are welcome. Let me know if you would like to see more adventures.
