On the weekends we like to walk the beach and let the boys run. Yesterday evening when we went up they were tuggin’ in the wrong direction like boats in a storm and sure enough, when I released them they bolted. Gone down the beach until the onliest thing we could see was matching yellow Lab tails twitching on the horizon.
Which just makes me crazy.
Cutter and Tug don’t have to do anything but laze around on the furniture and scarf up treats. I walk them twice a a day, every day, for a mile. On the weekends they get the run of the beach. They don’t have to clean up after themselves. They don’t have to help with chores. They don’t have to mow the lawn or do long division.
All they have to do is come when then they’re ‘effin CALLED. That’s it. That’s all. Just stop what they’re doin’ and race in our direction when we call them. I don’t think it’s too much to ask and it makes me a crazy turd when they run like that.
Which led to Miss Carol being a turd, which led to all of us being turds.
Turds by the sea.