Its a Dog's Life

 

Cider is a Golden Retriever, with the heavy emphasis on ‘retriever’.  Being a retriever does not necessarily make one a bird dog, anymore than being old makes one wise. He really only wants to bring things BACK to you, so if you were to, say, throw a bird, that is all right with him.

My son and a good friend went in together and bought Cider for me as a Christmas gift several years ago. This was a response to my suffering ‘empty nest’, so of course, I ruined a perfectly good dog. People do desperate things when they miss their kids. Some women, especially, don’t deal well with it and get little dogs to put little sweaters and things on. Not me. Cider learned table manners. We also got a crew cab pickup, so he didn’t have to sit between us on the seat and as we don't have a swimming pool, we had to buy him one of his own.
Please don’t get the idea that Cider is spoiled. He has chores to do. He has a toy box for his toys and he is responsible for picking them up and putting them away himself. He does get cheese for it, but he still has to do the work. He also does dishes, babysits on occasion, and makes a very good doorbell.

Top Notch BabySitter

having to wait for his order. Poor service

under Duck attack

He knows his place. The problem is, that it is between me and Randyman. Our comforter is of a size that it barely fits over our bed. Late at night when Cider decides it is time to jump in bed, he manages to land in the middle and suck the blankets off of us both. We are looking for a wider comforter.

These fat quail were all over the yard this week.  They know they will not be bothered. I once threw Cider’s ball into a pile of brush. Birds flushed everywhere, and he never lifted his head until he found that ball . They don’t even run for cover when he is around, anymore. I think he has a little Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Why, What IS that spot down there?

Its CIDER, waiting for someone to throw his kong ball

This is the face of OCD

Ever since he was a little puppy, he has brought me a myriad of things to throw. He has brought me toys, paper clips, thumbtacks, money, pieces of dried leaves…anything he can put in his mouth, or make stick to his tongue. Often times what he brings is so small, that only he can see it. He sets them on my leg and if it is big enough for me to hold, I am to throw it, and if it’s too small, I am to flick it. He has me fairly well trained. He is pretty intense, and single minded.

Yesterday, he brought me a dried, red jalapeno. It was very hot. He spit it out on my lap, and kept spitting, and spitting and spitting. I think he might have sprained his tongue. It did not deter him, however, from begging me to flick it across the room for him.

I would just die if someone took a close up like this of my face.

Sometimes dogs just act like they got no sense.