The orange ball was on the floor next to him, but I’m not cooperating, so he picked up the ball and placed it right next to my leg. Shoving it into place with muzzle.
Throw the damn ball!
Of course that’s what he wants. I know it. And when he gives up on eye contact and ball placement…well, then the whining starts. If it was a single ball throw that would be one thing, but no amount of ball throwing that will satisfy him. I threw the ball for him at the beach this morning. I threw it at the dog park a few hours later. But right now, I’m just not going to. Because once it starts, Katie bar the door….
Greta, btw, could care less about the ball, but she’s the one always trying to find things to chew on, whether it’s a pen, skanky leftovers on the beach, or something poisonous at the Headlands. We’re seriously working on that one after her hospital stay a couple weeks ago. She’s busy chewing a Himalayan treat made out of yak milk…yum.
Marlowe just loves his ball but he has no sense of reason, he us a creature after all. So right now, we’re not going there.
And occurs to me, that sometimes it would be good to use some of that self-discipline on myself. Since…well…I’m a creature too.
Tortilla chips, for example. Impossible to stop once I start. Best not to start.
House of Cards. Watched the whole damn season in two days. I was sick and could hardly do anything worthwhile, but still…
I know that it I just don’t start, things will just be more pleasant all around.
And now they are.
Marlowe has given up for the time being and curled his warm furry self right next to me.