Sticks and Bones

now you see it

now you see it

As previously described, Eros and I take three walks each day – morning, afternoon and evening – around the district where he lives.
In the midst of all this I have to find time to take him to the beach.
This is generally a two-hour adventure, involving a harrowing 10-minute car ride at either end.
Well it is harrowing for me, because I have to drive.

back seat driver

back seat driver

He is the ultimate in back-seat drivers, whining and moaning about everything, even throwing in the occasional woof if he feels progress is too slow.
At the beach his need for a servant becomes more obvious.
At a future date I will supply the reader with details and photos of the beautiful places we visit.
For now I will merely run through the process.
I am required to throw sticks into the water so that he can swim and retrieve them.
But first I have to find a beauty stick.
The problem is that when he has plunged happily into the Med, and re-emerged with his trophy, he does not return it to me.
Instead he does a look-at-me little trot along the sand tossing his prize like a drum major, stops for a shake, and then dumps the wretched stick when I am not looking.

now you don't

now you don’t

At which point he returns – stick-less – to my side and demands a repeat process.
I have tried reasoning with him, pointing out that there are a finite number of things on any stretch of sand suitable for hurling into the waves.
He usually sits at this point, indicating utter boredom.
When I ask him to be reasonable he offers a Gallic shrug, and stands, indicating that the discussion is over.
He must think that bons batons grow on trees.

utter boredom

utter boredom

One thought on “Sticks and Bones

  1. Ha ha! Zeke is the same… German Shepherds are NOT retrievers, are they?
    Look at the bright side… Eros is giving you plenty of fuel to write about!


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