I walk past the candy cane row on my way to the dog park that Harley loves to play at. He gets to run off leash with the other dogs. Today he played Frisbee. He was a hoot, tiny six pound dog, carrying the Frisbee back for another toss. I was so sorry I didn't have my camera with me. It's been years since he played Frisbee. As a pup, he loved the game, but he ran so fast one time to chase the Frisbee that it thwacked him pretty hard. I ran over to love on him, to let him know it was a boo-boo and not abuse. He had some awful things happen to him before I got him, another story for another day, of how I heard about that sad sickening story of his past.
So whenever he is injured, I tried to give him tons of love to ease his pain and let him know he is super loved and not being abused. The problem is the little fellow is so darn rambunctious, he sometimes injures himself.
One day at the dog park, he raced up on the metal picnic table (just like he had seen other dogs do there) only in his exuberance he sailed across the table, crash landing on the other side slapping the bench, then sliding down onto concrete where the table and benches are glued down. I loved on him, he knew nobody was abusing him, but he was probably pretty sore the next few days, as he didn't like being fussed over much.
Today the dog park had a Frisbee and Harley was suddenly ready to play again. He leaped to catch it, he fussed with it when it was flat on the ground until he could stuff it in his tiny mouth, then hold it up high enough so he could run with it without tripping over it.
And silly me, had left the camera behind.
If it's any defense, it did look like rain (the clouds were super dark) so I was afraid to take the camera with me lest I get caught in the rain with it.
After summery days the past two days, I am getting ready for a cold snap tonight that might plunge to just above freezing.