Golf Ball Nonsense

My human has a thing about golf balls. It started when I was a pup. He had a couple of golf balls at the store and seemed to get quite a kick out of slinging them down an aisle for me to chase. I have to admit it was fun for a while, but I grew out of it. He didn't.

I learned I didn't have to chase the balls. I simply waited until they hit the end of the aisle and stopped. Then I'd grab the ball and take off with it. My old human seemed to like chasing me and taking the ball away to start all over again. Only a moron would keep on with something like that! I finally put a stop to that nonsense.

I could see he was disappointed, because he kept throwing those balls for quite a while before finally giving it up. When they adopt a human, some dogs tend to spoil them rotten, but that's not a good idea. If get by with a few things, sooner or later they'll expect the most outrageous nonsense. You gotta know when to stop them.

Somewhere around the middle of last summer, we began doing some walking around the golf course. One day my old human found a golf ball in the weeds and started bouncing it around as we made our way home. Oh, yeah, I know he was trying to rekindle my interest in the fool thing but I hung tough and he finally quit it.

One thing I'm grateful for, though, is that he didn't quit going to the golf course. I found I rather enjoy those walks as I frequently find good stuff to roll in.

Well, he started finding golf balls on a regular basis and really got into it. He kept a running total, and then began hoarding them in one of his mate's decorative tins. I don't think she's found out about that yet. You know what makes this really insane? He doesn't even play golf!

Last year he bragged about collecting 55 old golf balls; on his best day he found 11. He's tried to get me involved in his insanity, but I can't emphasize my refusal strongly enough. They have no scent, no taste, and they're uncomfortable in my mouth. And that's that, as far as I'm concerned.

Still, off to the golf course we go every Sunday morning. Last Sunday he found 18 balls, a personal best. Doggies! What bragging! Two were invalid, I'm thinking. One had a big chuck missing and another a big slash. He claimed he had to get rid of them, but I saw them go into his collection tin.

Yesterday was Saturday and he had the day off. Early in the morning we headed for the golf course. We found eight balls. There was a horrendous rain storm Saturday night, with thunder and lightning. But early Sunday we were again off to the golf course. We stopped at the cemetery so he could say hi to some pals. Can't say I blame him. I visit with Spike and Chippie sometimes since they are right here under a couple of trees. Well, we found four more balls, so the year-to-date total is 67 and May isn't gone yet. Doggies! What crowing!

All in all, I can't complain, the golf course is a wonderful place to walk even though we only go on the fringes. I haven't done any big bathroom duties out there yet. I suppose that would create some sort of riot, so I'll probably lay off that business.

Nearly all the squirrels who come to our yard to raid for peanuts and bird seed live on the golf course. We've made quite a game out of our daily chases, so I have some good pals out there.

Hmm, his pals are in the cemetery, mine on the golf course. I'll tell you this, my pals are more active than his!

Well, woof 'til next time.

Spooky

Entered by Felix