Dog with Drive

I’ve got a dog with drive.

In pointing dog speak that means that when I take him out looking for birds, he is willing to hunt every bit of the cover we are in and beyond.

It means that when he is out in the field with his nose to the wind, it doesn’t matter how tired he is or how long we’ve been out.  He still flies over the ground with enthusiasm.

It means that when a bird goes down running, he runs after it.

It means he never quits.

In everyday-life-speak that means that he digs holes like he means to go to China.

And it means that when his paws don’t work, he uses his teeth.

Yup, I’ve got a dog with drive.

 

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Eaten by Lions

As it turns out I’m an old slow zebra, and the rest of my family… lions.

Also, tag is not my strong suit.

My problem with tag is multidimensional. First off, I know I can’t catch John. Unless he were to fall in one of the many pitfall traps, I mean dog holes, which are hiding in the long grass (because, yes, our lawn mower is broken again but that is an entirely different story), it’s pretty much hopeless. Then there is the part where I have to seriously work to outrun Ivy. The girl is fast. Clara, spent most of the time either strategizing about how she was going to “spear” people or getting a ride on John’s back. It’s possible that she is neither lion nor zebra and instead a native hunter. Jane, the only family member of mine I might have a chance of out running was already sleeping for the night. So it was me against the spear wielding, fast running lions.

Which brings me to my second problem, the giggles. I can’t help it. I try to catch John, it’s not happening- I get the giggles. Ivy lets me get close out of pity- giggles. Clara shows me how I should spear people instead- giggles. I attempt to outrun John who is carrying Clara and fail- giggles. I attempt to out run Ivy- giggles. All those giggles lead me to my third problem.

My third problem I’ll spare you the details but it involves too many giggles while running after giving birth three times. Also I would like to say that it’s totally unfair when you get tagged while you are “hiding” behind a bush. Clearly, I was “On T” as, apparently, they say now.

All this ended with me tripping while running through the lawn with a terrible fit of giggles and having my family pile on me as they informed me that I was an old, slow, zebra and they were the lions come to eat me.

Tomorrow we are playing baseball.

Alfresco Dining

Tonight we dined alfresco.

It was a beautiful evening and  so long as I could forget about why we were dining alfresco I had an enjoyable dinner.

But it’s hard to really enjoy the moment when you know that the reason you are at the picnic table is because earlier in the day roughhousing kids broke your kitchen table. That’s right the kitchen table, and if you are like us the kitchen table is the table which leaves us with the picnic table and crossing our fingers for nice weather.  Thankfully the weather was nice when I went to serve lunch, unfortunately I had used the picnic table to stand on when I painted the clothes line posts, never moved it back and it was still way in the back of the yard. As I walked all the way out there with two plates full of food I stepped in a hole that my rotten dog dug that I’ve never filled in and hit the ground with food flying. (Leaving me, as my mother pointed out, wishing I had filled in the hole long ago. My procrastination tendency and horrible lawn maintenance are long standing bad habits that I’ll tell you about some other time.)  So that, and the fact that table breaker number two pooped outside next to the table, (Another long standing bad habit that I’m trying much harder to break.) convinced me to drag the picnic table back to the house. Then as I was dragging the picnic table I stepped in the same g-d-hole as before except this time instead of throwing lunch on the ground I threw myself on the ground with a picnic table on top of me.

*sigh*

So, I picked myself up, made sure all my parts still worked, thanked my lucky stars no children heard my thoughts on dog holes and picnic tables, made a mental note to fill the holes (which in case you are wondering I haven’t done yet) and got on with fixing dinner.

Fortunately the too-young-to-wreck-tables kid has an infectious giggle…

…making it far easier than one would guess to forget about a rotten day and enjoy dinner!

Now perhaps when I’m done icing and elevating my foot/ankle/leg/oh-my-goodness-don’t-ever-fall-in-a-hole-under-a-picnic-table I should be back to walking normal and I can go fill in those holes…

…perhaps.