Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Fetching Miss Daisy

From the moment she first sees me every day, my weenie dog Daisy is ready to play fetch.

Sadly, I am not ready then. She never fails to let me know of her disappointment, whining and running back and forth along the fence of her pen, staring at the building where I keep her ball.

But I usually break down sometime and make the trek out to her pen to play in the big yard. She is happy. So is Buddy, her companion weenie dog.

Buddy was once a stud dog, but those dogs are behind him. If you saw Buddy, the phrase “stud dog” would probably not come to mind. Actually, you can see him. He is on the left in the picture with Daisy bringing a former toy to me. Buddy, as you can see is short, squat and I think whoever sold him to me forgot to mention that he is half chihuahua.

Daisy is definitely 100 percent Dachshund. She is long and sometime thin, at least when I frequently play fetch with her.

As soon as she is out of the pen, Daisy sprints to the other end of the backyard. Yes, she springs. I know her legs are only two or three inches long, but let me tell you, those legs are like little pistons.

So I throw the ball, she brings it back, but never all the way to me. Daisy wants to stop five or so feet away from me and drop the ball. I don’t know why she does that. Maybe she notices my gut and decides she isn’t the only one needing exercise? I prefer to think it is so she can spring back down the yard and be ready when the next ball comes toward her.

After the gun (what I used to call my arm before I got old and arthritic) gets loosened up a bit, or I scoot closer, I throw the ball against the privacy fence.

The Green Monster at Fenway has nothing against our privacy fence. Daisy would be a heck of a left fielder, aside from the fact that she chooses to catch the ball with her teeth and I don’t think that would be a good idea if a line drive came her way.

She almost always plays the angle correctly. Sometimes, just for fun (mine, probably not her’s), I try and seldom hit the metal posts holding the fence up. Ooh, what fun! Talk about some wicket bounces!

Daisy never complains, probably because she is a dog. If I was a dog, would I complain? No doubt. Buddy can also be a bit of a nuisance.

He likes to tail behind her until she gets the ball and then bang against her while Daisy tries to return the ball to several feet away from me.

Buddy also tends to like to do his business in the playing field, which is what I call the area where we play fetch.

He has a streak of two straight days going, littering the field. Since I am also the combo lawn mowing guy and ground crew dude, this gets a little frustrating when I hit the particular slick spot.

Daisy is pretty good about avoiding what I call the danger zone. Yes, I could pull out a pooper scooper upper, but that would require too much energy.

Buddy also likes to mark everything in the yard with short little squirts. So far, he has not tried to mark me. Thank goodness.

We usually play for fifteen minutes or so. We end when either I get bored (which typically happens because I fear I have the adult version of ADD) or when her old tongue drops to the ground.

Nutri Systems has nothing compared to these fetch sessions. Both Daisy and Buddy are trimming up rather nicely, I must say. Me? Don’t ask. No, really. Don’t ask!

Finally, I put the ball up. Daisy still runs around for a bit, looking to make sure I haven’t played some cruel trick on her like throwing the ball when she isn’t looking. Then, it is time to head for their pen so I can protect them against the Big Guy, the Bull Mastiff who also lives here and isn’t fond of other dogs, cats or animals intruding in his yard.

Buck (aka The Big Guy) does not care for the fetch sessions. He REALLY does not care for Buddy’s marking the yard sessions. And no, he does not offer short little squirts to override Buddy’s marks. He is a big dog and responds accordingly.

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