I sometimes tell people that my labradoodle is still a puppy. She acts like a puppy — hyper, uncontrollably excitable, and easily fooled. But I just realized today that Ingrid is already two years old.
The enclosed tennis courts in our neighborhood are perfect for letting the dogs run around. The speed of our tennis game usually means that they can’t grab the balls — although there were a few close calls.
By the end of the game, some of the tennis balls were so soaked in dog drool that it felt like hitting a water balloon. (Those ended up getting thrown out.)
And yes, it was as disgusting as it sounds. Continue reading “Back to the tennis courts” »
Last week we sponsored a German shepherd named Apollo — he’s available through White Rock Dog Rescue.
The backstory: Apollo was taken in by a woman who found him running loose in her neighborhood. The woman couldn’t find the owner and couldn’t keep him because she travels for a living. So she paid to have him vaccinated/chipped and referred him to the dog rescue. Continue reading “Meet Apollo” »
I have a pretty nice apartment, but I rarely have guests over.
There are a few reasons for that:
- The nearby gay bars, restaurants, and apartment pools form important third places that make house guests unnecessary.
- Constant contact through social media lessens the demand for in-person visits.
- We are more likely to meet people out for drag shows or theme park trips than a dinner party.
But the main reason why we rarely have guests is Ingrid, our labradoodle. Continue reading “Why we can’t have nice things” »
We almost started playing tennis!
I say almost because the primary activity is really sprinting after foul balls before the labradoodle gets to them.