This morning Shea and I went to play fetch on a tennis court. Shea likes it there. There isn't much to be afraid of. A few lines on the ground and a net. While playing around, he even found two brand new tennis balls.
This all came into play later in the day when we went for our evening jog. Being adventurous and wanting to find a new place to play, Shea and I took off in a different direction. We ran quite a ways, when I noticed an interesting bridge ahead. From afar the bridge looked like it may have water underneath it. Apparently I have an eye for water-topping bridges, as a beautiful creek flowed underneath this one. We followed a dirt path that looked as though it would lead to the water.
Once we made our way down to the water, I became nervous. Nervous, not because I was alone in the woods, or because Shea would run away and get lost in the slight wilderness, but because I saw ducks. Yes, fluffy, sweet, wading ducks. Thoughts of a dramatized Shea flew through my mind. Thoughts of guilt for bringing him here when he is so afraid of ducks.
Unbeknownst to me, Shea finding that second tennis ball was somewhat of a right of passage for him. It filled in for the ones we had snipped way back at five months. For my duck-fearing dog lost his mind and simply went after them. Not in a vicious way; just playfully chasing them. When he saw that they quacked, scattered, and flew away, it became even more fun for him. He chased and chased until there were no more ducks left. Then, he just wanted to play fetch in the water.
My boy carried found two balls this morning. This evening, he carried them with him.
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