On a Cold and Gloomy Day

I climbed a treeAnd dug a hole.Mom said we’re going to school to learn about digging.

I say MORE.

She says NO MORE.

Digging Lessons

While at the river, I met a really nice Golden named Bear. I was minding my own business, but Bear wanted to play. It requires a lot of concentration to dig the perfect hole, so I didn’t pay much attention to him. Bear chose another strategy. Here’s how it went:

Bear: If I can’t get you to play, Sage, I might as well join you in the hole digging game. I’ll dig up here.

Bear: Uh, Sage. Why isn’t my hole getting big like yours?

Sage: Well, if you want a proper hole, that sand has to fly! Would you like a lesson?

Bear: Wow! YES. Where should I stand?

Sage: You might want to get on the other side of me. 😀

Bear: It looks like you work close to the shoreline and let your hole fill with water. Why is that?Sage: The smells are better down here–not sure what it is, but it seems a bit fishy.  And water’s good when you get hot from all that digging. Did you know I like mud puddles?Bear: That has to be one of the best holes yet. I can’t wait to work on one of my very own! Thanks for the lesson, Sage.

Jury Duty

Mom was on jury duty the last couple of days leaving me with lots of time to think. What would it be like if I was on jury duty? OR, even worse, I was the defendant. My imagination began to run wild….

 Ball playing. Now, I do a mighty fine job of playing ball (at least I think so), but could someone accuse me of jumping too high and hogging the ball?

So, I thought and thought about my defense:

I, Sage, admit I am a ball-obsessed dog, but if another dog wants my ball–let ’em have it. There’s always more. Or! Believe it or not, I will find something else to do. And, yes, I jump high–I’ve been doing agility for the past 2 1/2 years and little ol’ me goes over 20″ jumps now. Oh, and I catch the ball almost every time. So, I think I’m

NOT GUILTY!

Hole digging: This is a tough one. I dig. And I love it. What if someone accused me of digging too many holes?

What in the world would my defense be this time? Is there a defense?

Aha! Got it!! 

Dogs dig!

Um, Mom said that wasn’t a defense. 

OK, how’s this: I no longer dig up Mom’s yard. I no longer dig under the fence and roll in very stinky stuff. I only dig at the river and ONLY at the shore line (the only place Mom lets me). And, the tide is always out when I do it and my hole is gone as soon as it comes in. A brilliant defense, don’t you think? And think of the satisfaction I get.

I think that gets me a

NOT GUILTY!

Rolling in ‘stuff’: I know, you’re thinking about all the really stinky stuff us dogs roll in. I think I’m probably guilty of this one–THE STINKIER THE BETTER–that’s what I say. And the jury would sentence me to the biggest bath EVER!

But what about just general rolling. Like on the floating dock at the river? With humans with their kayaks or canoes or are kissy-facing?

I have a pretty good defense here–it’s fairly clean and all those bumps feel sooooo good. AND, I don’t get any dirtier! AND, best of all, the humans love me! Yes, little ol’ me. Well, at least they love my rolling….

NOT GUILTY!!

And then Mom came home from her jury duty. She sat and sat and sat, but no one wanted her to be on their jury. I was sooooo glad, because all that stuff I was thinking about

came true!

Not my Garden!

Mom: Sage! WHAT have you done? Those are my parsnips!

Sage: Mom, you said you and Dad were going to Croatia and I wanted to meet you there. You’ve never left me before.

Mom: I know you do and we will miss you a LOT. But that’s just way to far for you to dig and we are leaving in 2 weeks. You and Toby will have fun with your petsitter.

Sage: But, MOM……..

Mom to Dad: I guess we need to Sage-proof the garden.

The first attempt around the tomato bed failed. We used a plastic fence material and it was too flimsy.  (Note: Tomatoes were stripped of their leaves so MAYBE they will ripen. Portland had 20 days of sunshine this summer–one of the coolest summers in a very long time.) Then we went to fence wire, which is now around the parsnip bed and tomato bed. One more bed to go!

Sage: Guess what, Mom? These parsley leaves taste pretty good!

SAGE!!!

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Digging, Part 2

Remember I said I liked to dig? Today, I was doing my very best to work on the hole where Mom says I can dig. I have dug up some really good things there, especially some landscape fabric that was under the dirt. Mom says she doesn’t want it there and who ever heard of putting landscape fabric under a lawn (once upon a time there was a little bit of grass in our back yard). Grass would be nice, but she says it doesn’t grow very well under the big tree. Mom did a lot of work to make the back yard look nice, so I’ve really tried to help her out.

Anyhow, I brought her this really long thing that was buried in the dirt. I thought it was a stick and was so proud of what I had done, but Mom said no, it wasn’t a stick, it was her edging. Oh, boy! I wonder if she will bury it again so I can dig it up again. This could be a fun game.

Digging

I love to dig, I love to dig, I love to dig. Do you get it? I love to dig.

Mom has this one place that she said I could dig–it’s near this huge tree in my back yard. I can dig there and not get told I can’t dig there. Not like some of those other spots I tried. I think I’ve tried all over the place–I love to dig.

Mom tells me I can’t dig next to the fence. But one time I did–well, maybe more than one time. This particular time, she was outside the fence with that hose thing squirting water all over the place. I went out the gate (she forgot to latch it) and looked at her from the sidewalk. I thought I was pretty smart, but I guess I wasn’t suppose to do that. I was back inside the fence and Mom was still squirting water all over the place. BUT, there was this little place under the fence where that wire stuff they put there was sorta loose and I could just squeeze under. I bet it wasn’t a minute before I was out again. I really just wanted to be where Mom was……

Since I was out, I thought I could play “keep away” from Mom. She didn’t think it was fun–party pooper. I ran across the street (not the big scary one, just the one beside my house) to some guys’ house. They were outside and helped Mom with the keep away game. She won and I had to go home again. I really haven’t tried digging out again. Probably a good thing.

But I still love to dig. I guess I’ll just have to go back to the place they said was OK.