Make Up Your Mind, Beagle Man!

Help me out here.  I really do want to play by the rules . . . but what are the rules?  As far as I can tell, they keep changing.  Last

Monday, down at Huntington Beach in California (seems like a long time ago!), Beagle Man sent me charging into the ocean after tennis balls.  Said he loved it.  Said watching me swim through the waves was his favorite thing in the world.  Said we’d do it for hours every day out at Montauk this summer — wherever that is.  Same thing two days later, at Morro Bay.  And I was lovin’ it, a.) cause it’s awesome, and b.) cause fetching things in the water is my job.  But then on Thursday, at the Marin County Civic Center in San Rafael, we’re walking on an island in this pond . . . and he doesn’t even throw the ball in the water!  He throws it on the grass!  So I fetch it, and instead of bringing it back to Beagle Man, I drop it in the pond, and jump in after it.  And he goes nuts, and hauls me out.  Says it’s a “decorative” pond (???).  Says it’s not for swimming.  What is he talking about?  It’s water.  It has ducks in it, for crying out loud!  And then yesterday, in Montana, we’re on the dock at Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park.  One of the most famous lakes in America, he says.  And one of the most beautiful, too.  And he won’t let me jump in!!!  Says it’s too icy cold.  Too cold???  I’m from Canada!  Sheesh.  When you get this thing figured out, Beagle Man, just let me know, all right?  And one last thing.  That post by Matt yesterday, grading me on my “behavior”?  I’ve been on the road with Beagle Man for 25 days now.  You’ve been with us for 4.  So who should be judging who?

Beagle Man and Ricky have an awful lot to say, so I’ll just pipe up in The Duck Dog Speaks whenever I can.