Last week, during Spring Break, Gary's brother and his family visited. This involved 4 little ones for Charlie to play with. They kept her busy and Gary would take them all for walks. Charlie got more Frisbee time than was probably actually good for her. A couple of times she was still panting an hour later.
On Saturday, the Hurst family left ...
On Sunday Gary left ....
Monday: Charlie, in the evening - indicating in 'Charlie Speak' (only I can truly understand this rare, sing songy, lilting language) that it was time for 'bouncy ball'. I told her I had a few days before 'bouncy ball' really needed to be played since she was still working off her Frisbee high.
Bouncy Ball: since I suck at Frisbee throwing and would take out a neighbors window if I really tried hard, Charlie and I play a game in the backyard with a tennis ball - I bounce it off the patio as high as I can get it and she runs and jumps, spins, bounces it off her nose (looks very much like a dolphin with a ball) then catches it in her mouth. She has an inordinate amount of excess energy and this activity is purely to let her run some of that energy off. When she is panting furiously - we stop. It helps that she seems to make work when running and jumping to catch the ball. It works for us ... and is the best she can get while Gary is gone so she doesn't complain. (I don't know if any of you know, or have seen Charlie - but she is most definitely a Frisbee dog. Gary throws it to the little grassy park area in front of our house and she jumps and catches it. She can jump 5 - 6 feet in the air, spins while catching it, spins once then catches it - she is very good at it and it is her most favorite thing to do - comes before eating and drinking I am sure).
Tuesday: told her the same thing - work off the kids playing and get back with me tomorrow (this is completely because I am lazy).
Wednesday: said OK, went to the 'ball drawer' (she knows where they are kept and often, when she feels I am being especially dense, or stubborn - will steer me over to the drawer and just sit and stare at it - like I just didn't get it when she asked to play 'bouncy ball') ... opened the drawer ... and ... no balls! Now here is where Charlie gets a little dense - she seems smart for the most part, but when I told her there were no balls, she pretty much didn't believe me and then I got the distinct impression that she thought I was (in her words) 'dicking with her'. I even had her stand on her hind legs, front legs on the counter and look in the drawer - she is big enough to see in. She sniffed at all the other doggy accoutrement's and then looked up at me, broken hearted. I felt bad, told her I would find them and gave her a treat. She took it and wandered off grumbling under her breath.
Thursday: After she asks (she knows we do it in the evening when it gets dark - thus when she starts 'asking') I go to the backpack Gary took on his walks with the Hurst kids totally assuming they were in there - nope. Looked in every drawer in the kitchen and (thankfully) did not find a spit encrusted dirty tennis ball in any of them. Tried to explain this to her but she was not going for it. She ran spastically through the house barking - and would not be consoled.
Could have kicked myself that I spoke with Gary (another story - but now has a loaner phone so I can call him) and forgot to ask.
Friday: Spoke with Gary AGAIN and forgot to ask where the tennis balls were (there are only two and I really need to just go buy a couple of cans of balls, but that would mean shopping ...). When it came time to play - Charlie lost it. I mean seriously lost it! So I decided to play our second favorite game: 'dyne diving' (pronounced - incorrectly since the 'y' is hard to say and I am lazy: 'duna diving'). She waits on the bedroom floor, trembling and I jump in bed and cover myself with my (or more often Gary's) dyne. Charlie then leaps 6 feet in the air and comes straight down on top of the dyne next to me and starts chewing my pillows (I don't know why that is part of the game - but when I make her stop, she chews my arms - gently, but still....). We played this for a while hoping to bleed off a bit of her pent up energy, but no go, she ran to the back door a dozen times barking.
I tried calling Gary, who, by this time it was his Saturday and he was off in a beautiful national park taking photographs with his new camera of waterfalls. Some Australian lady (yeah, I know it is a recording, but that does not stop me from yelling at her) who during the evening had her name changed to 'Australian bitch' kept telling me that his phone was turned off or unavailable and to call back later. I e-mailed him (but it was the weekend, loaner phone so no e-mail on his phone) a note titled: "WHERE ARE THE FREAKING TENNIS BALLS?" but don't think he will get it till his Monday.
She was out of control, inconsolable - and freaking out all over the house. She would run circles downstairs at light speed, then veer off, up the stairs, through Jessie's room, through the connected bathroom, through my craft room, out the craft room door, zoom back down the stairs and start looping again. To say she went 'berserk' is too gentle a word.
Finally took a broken tennis ball that would not bounce outside and just threw it over and over into the grass. She looked at me for a minute and said 'you're kidding me, right?' - told her it was this or nothing and she started playing. We did this for 20 minutes and finally she looked like she had at least started breathing hard.
Saturday morning: Charlie now looks like life as she knows it is over and she is not sure if she wants to live anymore. I decide to perk her up by taking her for a ride to Sonic - which was not a daily occurrence for her this week. I got my shoes and keys which she know means 'MINI ROAD TRIP!' and she started jumping higher than my shoulders. I got her calmed down enough to go outside and get in the car and we were off.
Came back, she wanted to stay out in this glorious weather and I went inside. I saw her a bit later at the back door and went to open it for her. And there, sitting on the back door mat was ... a tennis ball! She looked up at me wagging her tail with a wag that involved her entire body and I swear she smiled at me! The little freak has what, been hiding it from me? I don't think so - she has been pretty desperate lately - I think the kids left it outside, she did with it whatever Charlie does with balls that get left out (they are never in sight - she either has a secret lair I don't know about, buries them, I don't know ...) and then forgot about it.
We played 'bouncy ball' in the daylight.
On Saturday, the Hurst family left ...
On Sunday Gary left ....
Monday: Charlie, in the evening - indicating in 'Charlie Speak' (only I can truly understand this rare, sing songy, lilting language) that it was time for 'bouncy ball'. I told her I had a few days before 'bouncy ball' really needed to be played since she was still working off her Frisbee high.
Bouncy Ball: since I suck at Frisbee throwing and would take out a neighbors window if I really tried hard, Charlie and I play a game in the backyard with a tennis ball - I bounce it off the patio as high as I can get it and she runs and jumps, spins, bounces it off her nose (looks very much like a dolphin with a ball) then catches it in her mouth. She has an inordinate amount of excess energy and this activity is purely to let her run some of that energy off. When she is panting furiously - we stop. It helps that she seems to make work when running and jumping to catch the ball. It works for us ... and is the best she can get while Gary is gone so she doesn't complain. (I don't know if any of you know, or have seen Charlie - but she is most definitely a Frisbee dog. Gary throws it to the little grassy park area in front of our house and she jumps and catches it. She can jump 5 - 6 feet in the air, spins while catching it, spins once then catches it - she is very good at it and it is her most favorite thing to do - comes before eating and drinking I am sure).
Tuesday: told her the same thing - work off the kids playing and get back with me tomorrow (this is completely because I am lazy).Wednesday: said OK, went to the 'ball drawer' (she knows where they are kept and often, when she feels I am being especially dense, or stubborn - will steer me over to the drawer and just sit and stare at it - like I just didn't get it when she asked to play 'bouncy ball') ... opened the drawer ... and ... no balls! Now here is where Charlie gets a little dense - she seems smart for the most part, but when I told her there were no balls, she pretty much didn't believe me and then I got the distinct impression that she thought I was (in her words) 'dicking with her'. I even had her stand on her hind legs, front legs on the counter and look in the drawer - she is big enough to see in. She sniffed at all the other doggy accoutrement's and then looked up at me, broken hearted. I felt bad, told her I would find them and gave her a treat. She took it and wandered off grumbling under her breath.
Thursday: After she asks (she knows we do it in the evening when it gets dark - thus when she starts 'asking') I go to the backpack Gary took on his walks with the Hurst kids totally assuming they were in there - nope. Looked in every drawer in the kitchen and (thankfully) did not find a spit encrusted dirty tennis ball in any of them. Tried to explain this to her but she was not going for it. She ran spastically through the house barking - and would not be consoled.
Could have kicked myself that I spoke with Gary (another story - but now has a loaner phone so I can call him) and forgot to ask.
Friday: Spoke with Gary AGAIN and forgot to ask where the tennis balls were (there are only two and I really need to just go buy a couple of cans of balls, but that would mean shopping ...). When it came time to play - Charlie lost it. I mean seriously lost it! So I decided to play our second favorite game: 'dyne diving' (pronounced - incorrectly since the 'y' is hard to say and I am lazy: 'duna diving'). She waits on the bedroom floor, trembling and I jump in bed and cover myself with my (or more often Gary's) dyne. Charlie then leaps 6 feet in the air and comes straight down on top of the dyne next to me and starts chewing my pillows (I don't know why that is part of the game - but when I make her stop, she chews my arms - gently, but still....). We played this for a while hoping to bleed off a bit of her pent up energy, but no go, she ran to the back door a dozen times barking.
I tried calling Gary, who, by this time it was his Saturday and he was off in a beautiful national park taking photographs with his new camera of waterfalls. Some Australian lady (yeah, I know it is a recording, but that does not stop me from yelling at her) who during the evening had her name changed to 'Australian bitch' kept telling me that his phone was turned off or unavailable and to call back later. I e-mailed him (but it was the weekend, loaner phone so no e-mail on his phone) a note titled: "WHERE ARE THE FREAKING TENNIS BALLS?" but don't think he will get it till his Monday.
She was out of control, inconsolable - and freaking out all over the house. She would run circles downstairs at light speed, then veer off, up the stairs, through Jessie's room, through the connected bathroom, through my craft room, out the craft room door, zoom back down the stairs and start looping again. To say she went 'berserk' is too gentle a word.
Finally took a broken tennis ball that would not bounce outside and just threw it over and over into the grass. She looked at me for a minute and said 'you're kidding me, right?' - told her it was this or nothing and she started playing. We did this for 20 minutes and finally she looked like she had at least started breathing hard.
Saturday morning: Charlie now looks like life as she knows it is over and she is not sure if she wants to live anymore. I decide to perk her up by taking her for a ride to Sonic - which was not a daily occurrence for her this week. I got my shoes and keys which she know means 'MINI ROAD TRIP!' and she started jumping higher than my shoulders. I got her calmed down enough to go outside and get in the car and we were off.
Came back, she wanted to stay out in this glorious weather and I went inside. I saw her a bit later at the back door and went to open it for her. And there, sitting on the back door mat was ... a tennis ball! She looked up at me wagging her tail with a wag that involved her entire body and I swear she smiled at me! The little freak has what, been hiding it from me? I don't think so - she has been pretty desperate lately - I think the kids left it outside, she did with it whatever Charlie does with balls that get left out (they are never in sight - she either has a secret lair I don't know about, buries them, I don't know ...) and then forgot about it.
We played 'bouncy ball' in the daylight.
5 comments:
That is a good story. Dogs are so wonderful & yours seems particularly unique!
I could learn a lesson from Charlie--she's definitely persistent about her exercise!
Seriously - I am sending you some tennis balls. Anyone who would call someone one in Australia before making her 17 yr-old son go to the store needs some help.
FYI, we have tennis balls at our house. So don't let poor Charlie go crazy again. I can fix you up!
She is one persistent dog! Bailey would only be persistent like that about food.
You have not seen persistant until you have met Charlie - she is worse than kids. She drives Gary nuts from the moment he walks in the door until he throws the Frisbee.
It was always late - midnight or so when I was remembering that I didn't have tennis balls - so Ryan was asleep and Gary was awake. I kept forgetting at normal hours, or maybe I would have done something about it.
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