Saturday, June 19, 2010

Fish Dog

Last eve, in lieu of wilder outdoor adventures, we traveled to the fabled land of Suburbia. The park there turned out to be fantastic. 

We were headed for the official fenced dog park where there's a separate area for small dogs, which seems to be important to Zeek who has a tendency to be a bit reactionary with large, scary dogs. ("Are you sniffing my butt? Are you sniffing MY butt? I'll SHOW you whose BUTT you're SNIFFING!") But  we ended up outside the dog area where there were other unleashed but relatively controlled dogs going on walks and chasing balls in the still-hot sunshine of the evening.
From 2010 Summer

From 2010 Summer

There was enough wide green space there for us to have some of our own. Our dogs were tearing around at alarming speeds, harrying each other, chasing the flying disc, jumping into the pond and grinning wide dog grins. There was also a marshy area filled with tall grass where they were leaping and bounding and scattering blackbirds and hunting for muskrats (or something). 

The sun dropped down to skim along the horizon, lost some of its heat and turned up the color saturation. We walked lazily along chatting and laughing at our dogs. 

All was good, except that along the fringe of a fishing pond there were the occasional decaying corpses of ugly cat/sucker/carp-fish. Which, Sprocket, being the more loving of our two dogs, loved. Meaning, that he loved to find a stinking fish-corpse and roll all over it, making sure to rub its juicy deliciousness deeply into the fur of his neck. Great. 
From 2010 Summer

Which is why the dogs ride in the bed of the truck. And why it was, once again, Bath Night. Zeek got a quick bath to get the general marshiness out of him. And Sprocket got a thorough double scrubbing to remove almost all of the death-and-dying-rot-and-decay foulness that he'd so carefully saturated himself with. 

That's his third bath this week. Dead fish. Bird corpses. Animal poop. He's not picky about the essence, just enthusiastic about applying it. We're probably going to have to start beating him with a stick. One of these days. When we get around to it. And if we can find a big enough stick. 


ps This evening's mini-adventure was a non-stinky ride around town. But it was still hot so the dogs got to stop at this sprinkler. Where Sprocket seemed content to lay for the rest of the week.
From 2010 Summer

From 2010 Summer

Confused about which of our dogs is which? Us, too, sometimes!
From 2010 Summer

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