Top Jocks

I spent last weekend with two pretty athletic dogs.

You’ve heard me bragging about Kemba (named, of course, for UConn/Charlotte Hornets hoops star Kemba Walker) ad nauseum since he was just a tiny furball, so enough about him.  Except to say that yesterday at the dog park I flung a tennis ball maybe 120 feet and Kemba caught it in his mouth — on a fly!  A passerby with a black Lab did a double-take and said, “Wow — I didn’t know Goldens could do that.”  And I answered, in as pleasant, friendly, non-prideful, non-superior-yet-still-informative a tone as I could muster, “He’s actually not a Golden.  He’s a Duck Toller.”

Now I’ve already made fun of my son Greg for being such a sucker for all the compliments and fuss and glowing “report cards” his dog (and my granddog, let’s not forget) Ruckus gets from Biscuits and Bath, the doggy daycare “school” he attends (“Dog Pride”).  Well, I had the chance to spend the weekend with the Ruckster while Greg and Kelly were away, and I was blown away by what a jock that dog has turned into!

The first thing you notice about Rucky (besides his sweet face and his beautiful, sleek, brindle coat) is how lean and wiry he is:  He weighs 47 pounds, and I’m convinced 46.5 of that is muscle.  That dog is a leaping machine!  On Saturday, on a hike through Bretton Woods, our path was blocked by a huge fallen tree.  While I tried to figure out how to make my way around it, Ruckus just launched himself over the obstacle like it wasn’t even there.

At Lake Mohegan on Sunday, Ruckus had paused briefly on a high, flat boulder, and then saw Kemba charge ahead.  Ruckus took flight, and I could have sworn I saw him frozen in the air, horizontal — like Road Runner (Beep, beep!) when his momentum has carried him off a cliff.  Later the same day, back at the dog park (for a change), I slammed a tennis ball into the ground as hard as I could, giving Ruckus the high-bounce challenge.  From a standing position, Ruckus leaped vertically four times his height, or so it seemed, then twisted midair and snagged the ball, looking like nothing so much as a

guided missile.  I was one proud doggy granddaddy.

Besides going on about the athletic dogs in my family, I’m also gonna toot my horn regarding my own very unique talent: being able to lull all small creatures, no matter how active or how stubborn, to sleep.  You give me any baby, or any pet, and I’ll knock him out.  This past weekend presented the ultimate challenge: a 20-month-old hyper-energetic retrieving machine tag-teaming with a 13-month-old turbo-charged pogo stick.  Did I succeed in wearing them out?

See photo, above.  🙂

LOOK FOR A NEW BEAGLE MAN POST EVERY THURSDAY. OR PRETTY CLOSE TO THURSDAY. COULD BE WEDNESDAY. OR FRIDAY. LET’S NOT GET TOO OBSESSIVE HERE . . . OH, AND BTW, YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW ME ON FACEBOOK, TWITTER, AND INSTAGRAM.