Long Walks

You must be thinking I'm posting for one of those personal ads for a date, the ones where the lonely heart writes that he enjoys long walks on a quiet beach, nights at home spent watching Casablanca, etc. You don't have to worry, I'm not looking for my special someone. Certainly, not yet. After all, I only just turned three a month ago, and I think there is still plenty of time for me to settle down. Besides, the only long walks I like to take are with my dad, and he and I mostly watch either The Colbert Report, or baseball now that the season is well under way. I have to watch out for him too because he is a Yankees fan who lives in the heart of Red Sox Nation, but that's a story for another time.

I like having my dad around, even though he isn't too keen on spending countless days at home. I know he will find a job one of these days, so that's why I encourage him to take long walks with me, like this morning at around 7:30. I heard the birds chirping away outside, and thought it would be a great morning for a walk. So I walked over to dad's side of the bed and laid my head down next to him and gave him my best stare. He got my message in a few minutes and off we went. I know it helps dad clear his head when we walk, and besides, it's the least I can do to help. I also think dad doesn't mind staying out with me longer, especially now that the weather is much warmer.

Truthfully, I don't do this solely for dad's benefit. I happen to like that he lets me take my football with me when we go for our walks, and eventually I get him to throw the ball a few times. My mom thinks this encourages my obsession with my ball, even though I don't think I'm overly obsessed, well maybe just a little. Case in point, this morning on our walk I kind of got a little distracted with all of the different smells I was investigating. There was goose poop, rabbit poop and everything was still wet from the night's rain. As you can imagine, the combination of all of these smells send my retriever olfactories into overdrive. Before I could even say "rut roh," dad said to me, "Harry, where's your ball? Get your ball, go find it!" Boy, did I snap out of it fast, but then I had no idea where I left my ball. I was running around, looking back at dad for help, and all he could do was laugh. I eventually found it, without any assistance from the supposedly more evolved one of the species. In the end, I did my good deed because dad got a really good chuckle out of the whole experience, and that's what our purpose in life is when you stop and think about it. You create these little moments of happiness seemingly out of the mundane, and it's those little moments of happiness that help lift our heads up from the ordinary and let us glimpse at our horizon.

How does my garden grow?

The last few weeks have been a challenge for me, lots of excitement over getting an herb garden planted. Robert and Dena talked about plants, soil, sunshine and fertilizer for what seemed like forever. I was bored to tears. Then finally my favorite part came, I knew I could be of assistance when I saw the shovel and bag of garden soil come out. Besides being a retriever, I'm an expert at digging. But do you think they asked for my help? No freakin' way. Robert dug and mixed the soil and the worst part of it all was he didn't get dirty. I was sitting there thinking, "You took all of the fun out of gardening, dirt is to roll around in and get between your toes, in your ears and on your tummy." Then the topper was when he watered the freshly prepared soil, he had his chance but he blew it. All I could think was,
"Lay down in the mud, roll around Robert, it will feel so lush." Do you think he did? No way...he watered and then rinsed his hands off..as if they had dirt on them. Heavy sigh. They need my help desperately.

The next day plants went in. I do have to say they are lovely. Basil, Oregano, Thyme, Chives, Parsley, Sage, Cilantro, Rosemary, and one tomato for balance and beauty.

I learned that planting even a small garden is tons of work and that at first the plants are fragile. Which means that it's not a good idea to step on them ever ever ever! I've recently been told that I am a big ox and need to stay out of the garden...I didn't mean to step on the basil, how would I know it would kill it? It sure made my foot taste and smell good. I'm trying hard to be supportive of Robert and Dena's garden adventure by watching from the sidelines.

All I can think of now is the delicious chicken that Robert will make using all these fresh and fragrant herbs. My mouth is watering just envisioning what we'd be eating in the days to come. Gardening is fun after all.

GRAM'S in BEANTOWN

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while but my Gram has been here since April 17th. She is a ton of fun like all Gram's. She lets me do things I'm not suppose to, which makes me feel a tiny, little, bitty tinge of guilt...then it goes away; I go for it with gusto, for example: I get to go out back almost everytime the back door opens, she gives me the last bite of everything she eats, she lets me up on her bed day or night, she sneaks me my favorite Polka Dog treats and she thinks everything I do is funny and cute. By the end of the day I'm exhausted from all the fun we have.

I'll try to write in a few days about my Spa Day...it was glorious.