Reporting From Out East

This is Rigby reporting from the field. Okay, it’s actually out east…and technically, Sister is posting this from the town Library (where dogs are not allowed—obviously the Board of Trustees never met a dog such as me)…but otherwise, here I am! Here’s what’s been going on:

Overlooking the back yard.

On Wednesday my family, still on vacation, decided that they wanted to go out east and spend some time in my new house. In hindsight, I should have immediately become concerned when I noticed that they were finally packing my food bowl, but I was so excited to go for a ride in the car that I never put two and two together. You guessed it, my family had decided that we were going to be spending the night in the new house (it would have been nice if they asked my opinion).

And what a night it turned out to be. I had no idea what to do! Should I chew on my toys? Should I steal shoes? Should I howl at passing school buses? Should I just take a nap; and if so, where? I ended up spending most of the night pacing from the first floor to the basement, on Sister’s bed and off, taking short naps in between. Needless to say, it was not a restful night for me (apparently my family couldn’t sleep either—not sure why, but I noticed that they kept giving me sleepy dirty looks while they ate breakfast and I napped on my pillow).

Yesterday, I helped Pa with the plumbing in the kitchen. Now, I’m not sure if everyone knows this, but Golden Retrievers absolutely love plumbing. I mean, what could be better? You spend your entire time laying on your back under the sink (where nice tasty things fall and are forgotten about), there are lots and lots of mouth size tools and pipes to carry off, and there is always the chance that you might get sprayed with water (or even better, the human you’re helping might get sprayed). Anyway, Pa really appreciated the help I provided (go ahead, ask him!) especially when he decided to test out the dish washer.

I won’t say I was afraid of the dish washer. No, I was merely voicing my concern regarding how it sounded kind of like there was a giant angry bear stuck in there that really wanted to get out. Basically, I was protecting Pa by acting crazy and demanding to go outside…like NOW!

I guess Pa got the message because shortly after going outside (and after I ran back and forth on my leash trying to warn the neighbors about the giant grizzly bear in the dish washer) he suggested that he, Sister, and I go check out the dog park in the next town over. I was all too eager to jump in the car and flee, but I found it troubling that Ma decided to stay back at the house. “So sad,” I thought, “I kind of liked Ma. Too bad she’s going to be eaten by that bear.”

Sandy, Tootsie, and me!

Hanging with Tootsie.

When Pa, Sister, and I pulled up to the dog park I was immediately greeted by an exuberant two year old yellow lab named Sandy. Excited to play, I dragged Pa up and down the fence until he managed to wrangle me, my Sister, and himself into the waiting pen. Then Pa opened the inner gate and the fun began. Sandy and I bunked noses, exchanged all pleasantries, and then took off running. We ran from one end of the field to the other stopping only long enough for Sandy to take a sip of water and for me to dunk my snout in the overflowing bowl (jowls flapping in the air are much more impressive when sopping wet). Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly have any more fun, another family came along with their dog, a brown Husky mix (also two years old) named Tootsie. At first, I was a little freaked out—Tootsie had one brown eye and one blue eye—but after one sniff I knew we’d be fast friends. Off we ran chasing after the ball Tootsie brought but Sandy had firmly clenched in her mouth (I, of course, was running after my friends and not the ball—I do not chase balls). Occasionally, our paths somehow collided and we either jumped over each other (Tootsie was really good at this) or rammed into each other (which happened far more often). Either way, I had a great time and when I got tired of running Tootsie came over and boxed with me. Sometimes, I guess channeling my best friend Mecki, Tootsie rolled right over top of me!

Boxing!

After a lot of fun and frolic, Pa came over and told me that we had to go home because it was my dinner time. When we got home I greeted Ma (who had not been eaten by the bear), ate my dinner, and collapsed on the nice cool kitchen floor to nap.