In the morning we usually go down the wash for our walkie, in a more-or-less straight line from the driveway.
At that point it’s an interesting semantic question as to whether it’s a wash or a canyon. Tomato tomahto. In either case, Tobie has learned that he can climb the walls.
Lord of all he surveys…
And yesterday he discovered a new, fun game, which he spent a good part of this morning’s walkie perfecting…
You charge up a talus slope, as high as you can go before losing traction…
Then turn around and slide back down in a great avalanche of clay and ash…
…with points scored for how much belly contact and drift you can get without rolling over.
I imagine a rulebook is in process, with a system of competing teams and leagues. When he gets major city contracts for stadium construction we’ll all die rich.
I don’t mind that so much but I do wish he’d stop sticking his damned snout into every snag and under every rock…
Yes I know he’s only sniffing out rats and there’s no danger to anyone but the rats, and they don’t get a vote. But I’m paranoid about rattlesnakes.
Just wait until winter and the first real snow that sticks. He’s going to be one of those dogs that does body surfing on the snow.
OMG he looks like he is having fun!
More evidence that Tobie has fallen in love with his new home and human.
I’m loving your Tobie stories.
In my part of the world it’s a draw… unless you’re a recent arrival, they all call them arroyos, with emphasis on how thick an accent they can put on it.
Makes it easier to identify the outsiders, as if the snake boots didn’t give them away.