Let me get my qualifying statement out of the way: This is a one-dog scenario. In fact, chalk this up as a rant, just read for your leisure. If you feel the need to respond, vehemently supporting the miniscule pooches, feel free. Just be easy on the curses.
I was in New Jersey for a couple days, staying over at my aunt’s house. Now, I would have seen my four cousins, had they not been involved with every camp and extra-curricular activities excepting those dealing with the kitchen sink. Hope the punchline got across in the last sentence. Anyway. Moving on. Since no one was home for most of the time, my aunt driving her kids everywhere and my uncle going and doing whatever he does on a Thursday and Friday, I spent most of my time with their two dogs and the wonderfully mute gardener named Gustavo. Knowing the dogs a little better than the worker, I chose the dogs to play with. Naturally.
I don’t have a problem with Tobler, the Boston Terrier. He’s great. His life begins and ends with the tennis ball. It’s not a hard choice when it comes to getting his daily exercize. Just throw the ball with those hand-held catapults, because after twenty minutes, you’re not going to want to touch it. It may not even be the same color by then.
It’s a different ballgame when it comes to Georgie, the Chihuahua. First of all, she doesn’t get it to play much. But that isn’t her worst canine crime. Her worst canine crime is getting Mini-Me’s guard dog addicted to treats. That’s right. No exercise for Georgie, but ounces of doggie treats for the cutest little doggie in the world.
Because of this addiction, the dog is conditioned to think treats are natural occurences. No longer can you make the dog sit, or stay, or roll-over. No. It gets what it wants without having to do anything. I tried to get the rat to sit before it got its treat, which I took from its dog food. Didn’t work. At least she’s not picky, though I wouldn’t be surprised if the dog gets whatever caviar is left on the table at the end of the night.
Then I did something that dog hadn’t gotten in a long while. I gave it some much needed exercise. I got it panting a little. Poor pooch. It had to work a little bit. I brought the rodent sized canine outside into grass which I’m sure got up to its waist with a tennis ball that it seemed to favor. The ball-crazy Boston Terrier was playing siamese twin to Gustavo around the other side of the house, so I didn’t need to worry about him to come around and ruin the fun. To my surprise, Taco Bell started chasing that ball every time I threw it. It had a little trouble getting its finger-digit jaws around the tennis ball, but it scurried after the ball like a rat out of hell, or, more aptly put, bloodhound out of a bus full of sumo wrestlers.
It was amusing. I even laughed a little. I got past my frustration about the treats seeing this ratdog run after a ball that was as tall as its shoulder.
And then I thought of something. What if I had it chase a ball tied to the end of a remote controlled car? That would be worth the price of admission, I think.
Thoughts on my idea?
Filed under: Autobiographical Works, rant | Tagged: awesomeness, bloodhound, care, chihuahua, dog, dog blog, dog care, dog play, help, idea, play, query, question, RC vehicle, remote controlled car, tennis ball, yay
Hey, I think that would be a great idea… chasing a tasty car with a ball tied to it, double fun! Re the chihuahua thing, my mum’s not got much time for little mini-pooches but being only little myself at the moment I can’t say a lot until I’ve grown up! Teagan x