Fetch

I look at pictures of my past dogs that have passed on, ones whose graves we have dug or whose ashes we carry with us. Shelby, Lady, Ian. Our Katy is 10 this year and the gray in her muzzle reminds me of Ian's face that turned from black to salt-and-pepper as he aged. It struck me as we were playing fetch for the millionth time that our routine now that seems so settled and fixed will doubtless pass away faster than we can hold on to the memories. So for posterity's sake, here is a taste of what the daily fetch habit looks like. If you visit, this is your primer on how to correctly play.


There are three basic components of Fetch:


First, we must find the ball. If we've stuck to our routine, that is easy. At the end of the last fetch, I have traded Katy the ball in her mouth for a cookie and placed the ball on the shelf near the door. If I haven't been vigilant, then we have two options:


1. Walk outside and say, "where's the ball?" in my puppy voice (this is a pitch higher than normal) and see if the dogs will actually locate one in the yard. If I spot it and point from the deck, they run to get it. If there is one within their sight under the deck, I suddenly have two dogs with just their backsides visible, as they point and stare at the ball just out of reach.


2. If there is no ball in the yard or under the deck, we must now watch me play fetch, checking the usual places like under the couch and under the beds. We've discovered both dogs like to squirrel away tennis balls near their sleeping spots. I found a nest of four balls once behind Evan's pillow up under my bed.


Second, we must throw the ball. This may or may not involve some false starts on my part to see how quick their reflexes are. This also allows me to give them both a chance to get to it. You see, Katy insists on staying behind Evan when the ball is in my hand. This gives her the best chance to get to it first when I throw. So when she's being a ball hog, I can get her moving in one direction and let the ball fly in the other so Evan can get to it first.


Third, we must return the ball. If Katy gets it, she immediately brings it back to the deck, pokes her nose through the slats, and drops it to roll toward me. However, if she gets too excited she can drop it early and miss the deck. This is especially true if she sees me moving toward her to take it. So I stand still until I hear the familiar thunk of the ball hitting the deck before I step forward. If Evan gets it, we have another step. Because Evan will not poke his nose through the slats. I don't know if he has some aversion to this or thinks it is always Katy's job, but he will run back to the starting point and lay down with the ball between his paws. If Katy does not quickly retrieve it from him and take it to me, he will bark at her. At any point if the ball is on the grass and I am on the deck, all I have to do is say, "I can't reach it" and she goes after it.


Then we can start the process over again. And again.


Finally, when I've had enough (because the dogs will never have enough) I say, "Let's get a cookie" at which point they head for the door. If Evan has the ball in his mouth, he drops it at the door and walks with me to where we keep the cookies in the laundry room. Katy will then pick up the ball and wait for me to bring her a cookie to trade for the ball. If Katy comes in with it, she she simply waits until she is presented with a cookie, right at the door. Evan's spot for eating his cookie is on the rug in front of the sink. Katy's is on the rug in front of the door. I'm not sure when or why I've cultivated such obsessive/compulsive behavior in my dogs, but we do it the same way every time, every day, without fail.


And to end where I began, it will not always be this way. But this is the way it is for now and I don't ever want to forget.