Well, this post is about seventeen hours late. We have been in the Dog Days of Summer up here in New England. I can't even remember when it was last below 85 degrees -- I think it may have been March, at this point.
I end up taking a weekend trip to Maine to visit my sister and her family and their puppy, a rambunctious English Lab named Helen. Helen is a typical baby -- she loves to jump and play and lick and, yes, nip a little because that's what puppies do. When I arrive Friday evening, Helen clearly has forgotten that I used to chase her around the yard mere months ago. Her reaction is very puppy-like except for one teeny problem:
Helen is one of the strongest, sturdiest, silliest puppy I have ever met.
I manage to play a lot of catch with her. No matter how many times she tries to trick me with her other toys, every time I ask her to get her stuffed Mr. Puppers, she does. No matter where Mr. Puppers is, Helen will go find him. By the time we're done working on our tricks on Saturday, we have mastered drop it, leave it, wait, ready, get it. Even when Helen changes out her squeaky toy for Mr. Puppers, she does not react physically until I instruct her to "Get it."
Then, Sunday comes, and Helen greets me like it's 50 First Dates. She has zero idea who I am and what I'm doing there. Once we start up with Mr. Puppers, though, I can see she really did pay attention the day before.
Anyway, to make a long story even longer, this post is late because in the middle of Summer's Dog Days, I carve out a couple of Dog Days just for myself. The post may be late, but I didn't drop it, readers didn't leave it, you all waited until the post was ready. Now you can get it.
