Kemba’s Dilemma

* * *COUNTDOWN: 28 DAYS TO LA/XC-5 * * *

Poor Kemba’s been coping with adversity this whole summer.

All my dog wants out of life is to fetch the purple squeaky rubber ball that I chuck into the ocean for him.  But when he swims for it, retrieves it, and drops it at my feet, beautfully, like a good, good dog . . . his nephew Ruckus moves in and snags it.  In his very strong, vise-like, don’t-mess-with-me jaws.  Which means a major disruption in the game.  Because Ruckus isn’t a big fan of giving the ball back.  He prefers to just keep it.  And guard it.

On days when I haven’t planned ahead, and Purple Ball is the only one in play, Kemba will resort to diversionary tactics to keep Ruckus from snatching the ball.  He’ll fake as if he’s coming straight to me, then a juke, then a spin move — he looks like Derrick Rose in traffic — before shoveling the ball to Greg, while using his body to box Ruckus out, all in the hopes that Greg will then relay the ball to me for the next Chuckit toss.  But if his moves aren’t crisp, and the exchange isn’t clean . . . turnover!  Ruckus zooms in for the pick.  With his freakish quickness, he doesn’t need much of a window.

Now when I’ve brought down two balls, different story.  When Ruckus takes what he hopes to be permanent possession of Purple Ball, I diddle a green tennis ball in front of his big brown eyes.  Then I toss it down-beach.  And he rockets after it.  And leaves Purple Ball at my feet.  And Kemba and I are back in business.

Ruckus, Fortunately, is easily distracted.

Earlier this week, the duck dog was faced with a brand-new conundrum.  Normally, when Ruckus isn’t at the beach with us, Kemba will do maybe 15 fetches, then pause for a quick break at the orange water cooler, dropping Purple Ball in the sand in

order to take a drink, and then it’s right back to his job.  Same routine, over and over and over again.  But when Ruckus is there . . . well, the problem is pretty obvious.  What to do with Purple Ball while replenishing those fluids?  You can almost see the wheels spinning:  Kemba pauses at the Gatorade bucket, then thinks better of it, and continues on with the game.  The drink, to him, isn’t worth the loss of the ball.

But after maybe 250 retrieves, my dog is desperate for water.  What to do??  He looks longingly at the jug, but still can’t make himself give up the ball.  Then . . . light bulb!!!

Kemba leans over, drops Purple Ball into the bucket, drinks his fill, then fishes out the ball, which — added benefit — is now nice and clean and fresh and ice-cold.

Excellent problem-solving, my boy!

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