Lake Dog, Bat Dog, Stinky Dog

Dooley and I made our way to Lake Tschida this morning after a good three mile walk. I only include this because I was astonished by how much energy Dooley had at the lake.

With all the cabins empty, we had free reign. I felt comfortable enough to let Dooley have free reign, no leash. I started launching tennis balls. Joe had told me likes to chase a bunch at once. I then would have to walk to where I had thrown the ball and collect as Dooley was only in it for the best chase. I decided we should use two balls instead of six. This way he could have one, I could have one. As soon as he had one, he would look to me, usually lay down and wait. I tried to wait until he dropped the ball he had in his mouth before throwing mine. The times I didn't it was very comical to watch as he could not decide which ball to eat.

Sometimes he would run before I even threw it. He would never bring the ball back to where I threw it from. It is a very strange game of fetch. He would run into the water about every fifteen minutes or so. He did not want to stop. Although it wasn't too warm out yet, I decided a good hour and fifteen minutes was probably enough sprinting for one morning. 

Dooley and I loaded up the truck and hit the road for Carson.  The Bismarck/Mott clan love the Carson butcher. I told them it was my turn to make a run to Carson. I left the skylight open for Dooley as I went in to get our order. I kept peaking out the window to see what he was doing. Moving from passenger seat to driver seat. Panting. Intent staring. Panting again. My return was greeted by some sincere whining. I think he starting to like me. Starting to believe that I can take care of him until his master returns. After I was settled in the driver seat, he insisted on keeping his face inches from mine. After a few minutes I finally got him to settle in again. Then we hit road construction. The kind with a pilot car and a stop light. Yesha-shumdia. Now at this point, Dooley wants to get home. He also had a bone the night before and now he was stinking up the pick up. It was a major issue. The stink would not leave. I was forced to keep the window down.

Bat Dog.

Dooley is beat. I am too. What are we going to do tomorrow?