Typically, Labradors love water.
A couple years ago, I went to diabetes camp with all my furry friends and their handlers. I donned a life vest as Mom took me in a canoe, paddling us out to the middle of a very deep, dark lake. I perched nervously in the bow of the canoe, watching my mom enjoy the sunny day. When we finally made it back to shore, I hopped out onto dry land, relieved she didn’t make me go for a swim.
I’m not your typical Labrador.
After our canoe trip we stopped for some refreshment because the summer sun was working overtime. A short stroll took us to where people were catapulted off a thing called “The Blob” into the depths of a pond. Most of my furry friends were enjoying chasing a tennis ball into the water.
Mom put my life vest on me again and coaxed me into the water as our friend, Sarah, took the handle on top of the vest and took me further out. Instantly my paws were doggy paddling fast and hard. With Sarah swimming to the middle of the pond, and me at her side, I felt a little confident. We were swimming together.
Then she let go.
All I could see was Mom at the edge of the water, cheering me on. My legs paddled so fast it was over in a few seconds, but it felt like forever.
Once on land and free of the vest, I shook myself off in the middle of a group of my friend’s dog handlers, causing groans and jeers. “It’s just a little water.” I thought.
I hate water.
At home my mom bribes me to get in the bathtub. I enjoy the special treats, but I hate the water.
She tells me I’m not going melt as she hoses me down and suds me up. Didn’t I say in my previous post that dogs don’t know what time is? Well, I do understand time when I’m in the tub or in water. It can’t go fast enough.
When it’s all done and Mom is fluffing me with a towel, I get zoomy.
As Mom opens the bathroom door, I do happy laps around the house. I’m energized and clean thanks to water.
I guess I can endure it for a few minutes, whatever minutes are.