Good morning Everyone!
My mother was visiting us last weekend and while Mom was here we decided to drive over to a restaurant that is on the banks of Lake Martin, Sinclairs on the Lake. We sat down to a beautiful waterfront view, and an excellent meal, but before the meal arrived, Mark and Kayla completed their ritual walk along the boat pier that lets boats dock right by the restaurant. While they were doing so, a little black and white cocker spaniel streaked by them, bound and determined to get into the restaurant, having just seen her master go through the door.
Mark helped to catch her, and inside the restaurant, Mom and I watched the cocker spaniel being brought back to the boat to await her owner, struggling against the leash all the way.
It reminded me of an experience we had with our first dog, Shadow. Even though she was half cocker, half lab, Shadow detested the water. However, paradoxically, she loved to ride in the boat. Her favorite speed was wake speed; she would sit in the front of the boat then and enjoy watching the world go by. Whenever we went faster, my appearance was required in the front of the boat to hold her as we sped through the water. When she decided that Mark was going too fast, or the ride was too bumpy, she would jump out of my arms and walk back to where Mark was driving, and stare at him.
She was the smartest dog we ever owned, hands down, although Tyra comes close. Once, she was too smart for her own good.
We had taken Mark’s sister, brother-in-law and our nephews, out in the boat, found a likely spot on the lake and anchored the boat where we could play and swim in the water. One of the toys we were using was a huge inner tube.
We left Shadow in the boat because we knew how much she hated the water. She sat on the front of the boat, watching us, and we went ahead with our water sport. Before we could turn back around, a black streak came flying off of the boat, ringing the inner tube in the center and slipping right through it.
It was at that moment that I learned that dogs could cuss.
Apparently, Shadow had eyed the inner tube carefully, and not realizing the hole in the center was floorless, had decided that she could jump onto the inner tube to be nearer to us as we were playing without getting wet.
She came up from under the inner tube swimming (it’s not that she couldn’t swim; she just hated the water) and mad as a hornet, blaming us for her misadventure. She did deign, however, to let Mark help her back into the boat as she scrabbled up its fiberglass sides, desperate to get out of the hated water.
All was forgiven, of course, once we all got back in the boat and headed back to the dock.
Have a great day everyone!