Lost* the ball in the park, didn’t I, so a big search was instituted which involved me rustling in the undergrowth, diving into bushes and leaping around a wildflower meadow which is going to seed. Ended up with hundreds of sticky burrs and seeds in my coat. Yuk.
Didn’t manage to find the ball, or the Chuck It one I lost in the same place last week.
I had a good brush when we got home but there a still loads to come out. At least my ears are clear.
- As we were leaving, having searched everywhere, another walker shouted she’d found it. In a patch of long grass. How did I miss that when my breed is renowned for its prowess in this field? Field, field – who said field?
Look at me in action – aren’t I magnificent, ears and feathers flying, my Chuckit ball firmly in my mouth?
This is our nearest park, opposite my favourite pub (Left Luggage Room) and not too far from home so that my mum doesn’t have to be pulled too far on the lead.
Serendipity my mum calls it but that’s too long a word for me so I call it luck. ever. Irish aunt found a pristine orange and blue ball on the beach, looked for an owner but no-one was around so she brought it home. It is the best ball – ever: tough, great bounce, easy to see.
Two weeks later it’s still going strong, looking and bouncing like new, which mum says is a record. The rubber ones she normally buys last 10 days or so before I have sunk my teeth into them enough to lose their bounce and sink if they are thrown into the sea.
Luckily the ball has a name (who knew …thought only pets and people had names.) – it’s a Chuckit *. They are a lot more expensive than my usual balls (cheapskate £1.99 for four so no wonder they didn’t last!) so I am warned not to lose it in the rocks as we come off the beach – my naughty trick according to my mum.
* Widely available online (probably in proper pet stores too); from £8.49 for two.
Signed off by the vet this evening – I’m good to go! Not full pelt, mind you, just gradual build up of exercise. Apparently it takes 12 weeks for a bone to heal fully and I’m not there yet, though my mum says she will probably never throw a ball for me again. Huh.
Now we have a different rodent in the house as we pet sit the Irish cousins’ hamster, Cheeks, while they are on holiday.
Cheeks by name, cheeky by nature says my mum after he bit her while she was hand feeding him. She yelped and there was a LOT of blood. She said if he did it again he would be cat food. What, I don’t get a look in? Not that he would be a big meal but he would make a tasty snack.
He came with a shiny green ball which he can wander around in. That gets the cats’ interest, I tell you, as he bumbles from one room to the other. My mum had to chase him cos he was heading for the open front door.
I’m used to him so I ignore his exploring but the cats, especially Cleo, are fascinated. Cleo definitely fancies a snack!
Such an exciting day. First we went to the playing fields and I showed my ball chasing and catching skills then, unexpected treat, the lead comes out again and I’m taken out by my mum for coffee with friends.
I wasn’t allowed in the cafe but I got lots of fuss, especially from one of my mum’s pals who is a big fan of mine, and passers-by. Mum and her friends scoffed scones, cakes and brownies while I had to make do with a paltry bowl of water. I was allowed one tiny taste of brownie which hardly touched the sides and, though I made an impassioned plea for more by whining loudly, it was all gone.
I made a big effort to walk nicely on the lead on the way back cos I know that, if I don’t pull, I may get taken out again for coffee. Though I really think I deserve more brownie for my efforts.
My mum had an operation on her knee about three weeks ago and hasn’t been able to go to the beach. I still go but it’s not the same and I get distracted, won’t chase the ball and sometimes won’t go back to the car. I’m not the most popular dog when I refuse to head home.
The Irish aunt says I’m too bold when mum is out of action, trying to take her place as top dog, so she’s got me into obedience training again. That is so tiring, does my head in, so it’s no wonder I’m subdued afterwards.
So I’m hoping that next week my mum will be coming out again now that the bruises are gone. I’ll chase the ball for her! Whoopee!