Wow, what a lovely day. Just what the doctor ordered and it’s off to the Bay with Perdy. I gather our ‘essentials’ and head on down, Perdy embellishing the talk-back radio with her excited whimperings. If I didn’t know her better I would have thought she has wet herself by the time I opened the door and undid her leash. Off she went, prancing across the grass and onto the sand, sending me backward glances as if to say, ‘Hurry up you fat---.’
By the time I had cast my first throw of her orange ball, and she returned with her prize, I had my earplugs in. Perdy gave me that quizzical look she favours, along with the tilted head. I will never tire of that look.
We were soon joined by other canine packets of mischief, some wanting to acquire Perdy’s ball. She responds quite differently, depending on the dog. It’s not just about size. Sometimes she really lets huge dogs know that ‘this ball is mine—got it?!’ Then for other dogs that are even smaller than her, she just wanders off as if to say, ‘So your mum’s too mean to buy you your own ball. OK you can play with mine, but if you don’t bring it back, I shall give “Perdy- for.”
Eventually Perdy decided that we were going to do a circuit around the Lagoon. Off we go, and before too long, she drops the ball down a hole and then expects me to get down on my knees or worse still, on my stomach in a beached-whale-like pose---- not pretty and without Green Peace membership, probably illegal. I push my hand down the hole, hoping like hell that it is not inhabited by a nasty rat. All the indications from Perdy’s demeanour tell me my fears may be correct. However, I receive no punishing attacks for my efforts.
With the ball safely back in its holder (thrower) we complete the circuit. I encourage Perdy to take a drink and I also throw the ball way out into the Lagoon in the hope that the swimming will wear her out a bit---yeah right.
Normally when we approach the car I have to use all sorts of subterfuge to get her to come to me. There are some days when she just will not come. Her face says---‘I’m not finished yet and those other times when you think you are the boss--- well I’m just patronizing you.’
I decide that I am well over waiting 10 to 20 minutes, trying to reward her with little treats. This time I go to the car, open the back door and in she goes. Maybe the secret is in not making a fuss. What do you reckon?
On the way home I stop ant the corner shop and buy a few bits and pieces. I pull my wallet out and place it on the counter but unfortunately my wallet was tied up with the long ear phone cord and what do you know? -----out came about 20 little doggie bites. They scattered all over the counter and I could just feel the eyes of those waiting behind me drilling into the back of head. I tried to gather the pieces up and the shop keeper helped. He didn’t seem too worried. After all, I do spend quite a bit at his shop. We cleaned up the bits and off I went, heading to the car with Miss Perdy and a very red face. Lucky it wasn’t something else more embarrassing I suppose. Believe it or not!
