|Daisy takes the plunge.|
|The fish didn't mind having a friend in, and neither did I.|
My personal pond, that is, not the local body of water known as Morses. This pond, while it is home to fish, frogs and the occasional turtle, is more of a watering hole for me, and this visitor--Daisy is her name--rightly treated it as such. In fact, she was so thirsty after racing around my garden that she waded in farther and farther, lapping as she went, until she was up to her neck in water and pond fish. Fortunately, they did not mind.
I was thrilled to have a playdate with Daisy, who is one of the many pups--albeit a very special one-- brought up North by Greg Mahle, the subject of local author Peter Zheutlin's book Rescue Road. I'm from the South, too, so I knew we would get along just fine.
Besides the fun, one of the best things about having Daisy over was that she made me look good. Really good. Her mom has trained champions. Dogs who understand French. Dogs who can actually dance to actual music. I can barely speak English, and I'm better at dressage than dancing.
Turns out, all I had to do to look good was to sit. I rarely sit, but I did for her. In return, I chomped down bits of string cheese. Daisy? She mostly raced about, heedless.
I'm no Christmas angel, as Mom would attest. So I will confess that I mostly sat. The rest of the time, I was inclined to knock Daisy's mom over. Given that she does not weigh much more than I do, it would have been a cinch, but I decided it wasn't worth the repercussions. If she had blue cheese, well, that would have been another story. As I'm already packing on the holiday pounds, it's something I could go for in the new year. Better than an ice cold plunge any day.