I found an old football of Tilly’s and this morning, Parker and I played fetch with it. No, no, he didn’t bring it back or drop it when he got it. But what he did was watch like a hawk as I threw it and then race after it, bounce on it, make it fly again and again and then settle with it in his mouth until I walked up to him. About half the time he’d grab it and run away, but eventually he’d leave it so I could pick it up and throw it again.
It’s a beginning.
Of course it took chicken and a quick grab to get him to come back, which left me muttering about not learning to keep the damned leash on him. My mood would have been better had it not been for the cold (cold! I Hate cold!) drizzle which was giving me a bad permanent.
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