No.1 You will drop the ball.
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Relationships
What is it with dogs and water? Well my dog, anyway. She just loves the stuff.
It has been raining heavily here for the past few days, and the BMX track on the ‘rec behind the house that Audrey and I presently call home, has become completely flooded. Whilst this is an immense disappointment for several Derbyshire cyclists, it is a dream come true for little Audrey.
She knows that if it has been raining during the night, our morning walk will have great puddle-potential. She will wake me an hour earlier than is usual. And ten minutes later I am being pulled in great clumsy leaps, bleary-eyed and panting, with limbs flailing crazily in all directions – rather like a member of Pan’s People, but with less grace and control – down the hill towards the ‘rec. Once inside the gate and off the lead, she’s off, propelled like some kind of hairy cruise missile, locked precisely on to its target.
And there she is, delightfully happy at last to be jumping and splashing like Tigger in the newly-created, BMX mini-lake system that the English weather fashioned just for her. She tries her paw at swimming in the deeper regions – doggy-paddle, obviously.
She displays the very same rampant enthusiasm whenever we visit the local babbling brook or when we jump into the car for a trip to the beach. I think she may have been a dolphin in a past life. Or Johnny Weissmuller, perhaps.
Mind you, she hates having a bath – the actual soapy bathing part, anyway. She goes bounce-crazy once the bath is finished. It is one of her favourite games, her tearing dangerously around the house, full of doggy vim and delirious abandonment, with me following, pleading helplessly for her to hold still, clutching a big towel.
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