After intense contract negotiations I have agreed to come back for K-9 Kamp Three: The Search for Rock (Hard Abs.) At the age of five and looking, if I may say so, in fine form, there is no need for me to rejoin the kamp but my partner in K-9 Kamp Krime, my Daddy, is a fat horse of a different color.
I think Foley could use K-9 Kamp but she got a note excusing her. It read: “Dear K-9 Kamp director: Foley will be unable to do K-9 Kamp again this year because she has a lactating patella, arthritis, and spends every day toning the most important muscle in her body, her tongue. Signed Foley’s Mother.”
On the other hand I am glad that Foley is not joining us. There are two main exercises that Daddy and I do. One is the ball chasing. Daddy throws the ball and I chase it, which is how I keep my fine form, but it does not give Daddy much exercise, except when he has to crawl on the ground to get the ball from under a hutch, or under the bed, or on a grate, or, well, really the list is too long to continue with.
The other is walking. If we walk with Foley it is such a drag, and by this I mean that she digs in her little paws and won’t move. You would be surprised how seven pounds of dead weight can bring a puffy, out of shape, full grown man to a halt.
I am too wee a dog to go outside and play. There are predatory birds flying overhead and Mommy worries that one of them is going to take me for a fly and drop. So I am always on leash when I am outside. So that leaves walking as our only activity.
We are lucky that we live in one of the best walking areas in the world, wide streets, a speed limit under 15 miles an hours, manicured lawns, and kind neighbors, even if they are, if healthy pruned, and if not, zombies.
Plus we don’t have to worry about ticks. So our walking is a lot easier than other dogs walking, when they do it out in the woods, but I also have less things to smell. My fellow dogs leave me tree mail, and I like to sniff it, but just once I would like to sniff an out of neighborhood dog.
So a walking we will go, over the sewers and far from the woods to someone else’s grandmother’s house we go, Daddy’s the one we’re going to have to weigh, and if Foley walks it will be slow.
Wish us lots of luck.
For more about K9 Kamp or to join follow the links here at Peggy's blog and here at Kol's Notes