Love that Barticus Farticus!
It all started last Thursday. We were out for our usual hike. We ran into Atilla and Chloe. Chloe's dad doesn't really care to hike so we kept lingering by the creek. There was a deep "jacuzzi" with a golf ball in it that I kept trying to retrieve. It kept getting darker and the rest of the pack headed home. But Mabel and Bart hadn't really exercised yet...
Finally, using a long stick, I got the ball! I gave it to Mabel and we took off down the creek. After a bit of a romp, Mabel found a sandy spot to bread her ball and Bart was off ...doing Bart stuff. He came up out of the water and started stalking Mabel. She got up and stalked Bart and the tussle was ON! I grabbed the golf ball and suddenly, both dogs stopped playing and stared at me.
"I want the ball."
"NO! That was MY ball."
I tossed it in Bart's direction - cause Mabel had already played with it for a while. Poor Bart! He made the mistake of picking up that ball! Mabel turned into a total WITCH! She went for him! And Bart, the street savvy dog that spent a large part of his life avoiding scrappy dogs and the last year putting up with Mabel's antics, had had enough!
He nailed her! He chest bumped her so hard, she landed in an upright "beg" position. She looked stunned! And just as fast, he hit her again and she flipped backwards and came up crying! I got mad, picked up MY golf ball and took off for the car. It was OVER. They were both looking at me like "What? We were just playin!" BRATS!
I was angry, I drove to 'tilla's house and gave him all the golf balls I found!
The next day, Mabel was limping something fierce. She had cried all night long in pain. And even though I was mad at HER for starting the fight, I live with her! I don't live with Bart. When the Rottrover called and asked us for a hot midday hike - just a short one with her Disable Listed Gizmo, we went. Without Barticus.
Look at Mabel eyes... Rimadyl
I knew I would be lugging a leash (we hike off leash, so I'm the one that "wears" it - wrapped around my shoulder to opposite waist), water, a heavy camera, and supervising a 100# whiny baby. And one more pup felt like too much.
My plan was to go back that night with just Barticus the Farticus. But it had been a stressful couple of days. My college cancelled my weekend classes - taking $300 out of my pocket - because they couldn't reach me by email for 3 whole hours. (Heaven forbid they try a phone... I was home!). I got home and cleaned the pool while swimming. I got so relaxed, I just couldn't go back!
My BFF tells me Bart spent HOURS staring at the front door, waiting for us. He could not be consoled! He didn't want to be petted. His heart was broken!
I can't ever do that to him again. He's my hiking dog.
I have to add a footnote to this story. Prior to Friday, the only form of ID Bart has been able to keep on his collar was one of my glass beads. (He is micro-chipped.) But we figured most anyone who found him at the creek would associate that with me. On Saturday, I noticed it was missing. Rottrover says that's the official sign that Bart has broken up with me! LOL!