Before I begin to wow my loyal
readers with my tales of last weekend's Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens, I'd
like to explain my week long absence. It was Sister's fault. You
see, she started coming down with a cold last Sunday and "didn't feel
like" writing for me (sadly, I'm still dependent upon Sister for typing
out my dictations due to my severe lack of thumbs and dew claws). Anyway,
I did my best to try to persuade her otherwise. I even went so far as to
give her an occasional jab to the gut while she lay in bed coughing in an
attempt to take over the bed...I mean....get her to start typing. Sadly,
up until today, it was a waste of time (and I never did get the bed to
myself).
So anyway...Old Westbury Gardens.
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| Snout to Snout |
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| Bastille in a Calm Moment |
The big moment from the weekend had
to be my official introduction to Mecki's little brother Bastille and, despite
my reservations, it went okay. Sure, Bastille's a bit on the loud side
(very loud), and yeah, he has freakishly strong upper and lower body strength
(I've never seen a dog jump so high or do pull ups against a stone wall), and
there was that problem of him always lunging forward with his mouth fully open,
but once he calmed down a bit we actually got to a point where we could stand
within a foot of each other. I’m sure
that after a few more meetings we’ll be best of friends (or I’ll be deaf from
his shrieking).
Other highlights from the weekend
include:
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| Bastille In A Tree |
- Mecki and I arguing over who was going to lead our pack during our walk.
- Play boxing with a cousin (AKA a fellow Golden Retriever) named Riley in the parking lot.
- Mecki and I bonding over the fact that Bastille was placed in a tree for a picture.
- Mooching baby carrots off of Mecki and Bastille's mom (then chewing them, spitting them out, and mooching some more).
- Saying hello to cousin and yearly Dog Days participant Emma Rose and her family.
- Keeping a close eye on Mecki and Bastille's mom because she threatened to pick me up and put me in the tree (I've never fully trusted her after she hoisted me up and into Sister’s car after a BBQ at her house two years ago).
Needless to say, I was totally and
completely spent after all this fun. On Sunday morning, after only one
trip to Old Westbury, I refused to get up until well after 8am despite the fact
that I had yet to go out or eat my breakfast (when Ma checked on me prior to
8am, all I could do was give a few thumps of my tail). I spent most of Monday,
after two days of wandering the estate, moving from one soft cool spot on the bed to
another.
But, aside from exhaustion, there
was one particular low associated with this year's Dog Days weekend. Pa
and Sister each had to pull a tick off of me. The first one was on my leg
and was really hard to get out, but I was really brave and cooperative and
earned a whole piece of cheese for my troubles (of course, I really wasn't fond
of Pa's idea of marking the spot with a Sharpie marker for easy
medicine application--sorry Pa, no matter how hard you try to sell it, that
black spot on my fur does not qualify as a tattoo and certainly does not give
me "street cred"). The second tick was found on my cheek and as
much as I was happy that Sister finally tweezer-ed it away (it was only nestled
in my fur--Sister said it couldn't penetrate through the drool), I really
didn't appreciate her removal technique of grabbing hold of
my snout.
But back to more pleasant
things. Check out some more pictures taken at this year's Dog Days weekend.
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