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I've been to the desert on a dog with no brains

Not really, but close.

Our dog Cassie is not the brightest of animals. I say this with the same affection I use when I say that my teenage son now painfully understands the reason it's illegal to text message and drive at the same time

Cassie sort of fell into our laps through no fault of my own one summer day a few years back.

This week I've taken up walking around a lake near our home every morning. The first morning I took hubby with me, the last three mornings I've taken Cassie.

Cassie does not travel well. She tends to throw up if the journey is of any length. She also does not get much exercise. The most traveling she's had lately has only been moving from one couch to the other for her marathon naps each day.

I've not been much better at getting out and moving--but I'm trying to do better, hence the lake walking this week.

This morning when I woke her up and told her we were going for a walk, her response was less than enthusiastic. When I took her outside and told her to get into the suburban, she circled it three times with her tail between her legs as though she expected it to hurt her.

I finally got her to jump up and in so I could secure her leash to the little steel thingy in the back to keep her from jumping over the seats.

She jumped over the seat anyway, the big furry doofus. When I got to the lake I went to get her out and discovered her about to choke herself in the back seat. Not only had she done that but she'd wrapped the leash around one leg. This is not a small dog. I couldn't reach her and was trying to figure out how unhook her. Finally I just told her to jump back over the seat and she finally managed it.

Here she is on our walk. Big, furry, brainless baby.

Photobucket

Comments

  1. Anonymous2:13 PM

    LOL i call her the drug induced doggie haHa Ha

    ReplyDelete
  2. She could have probably written exactly the same article about you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Julie, she certainly was a drug-induced gift, wasn't she?

    Vicus dear, she probably could, if she could speak. Or type. Or think in such terms. Right now she loves me. I'm sure tomorrow when I drag her out of bed at 6 a.m. she won't be loving me quite as much.

    Steve, sweet what?

    ReplyDelete

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