My Father's Day Weekend

I shall admit it...I am an anxious boy. My anxiety stems from the need to have my "pack" within view. If someone leaves or I do not know where they are, I get a bit whiny. Yes, I am ashamed to admit it, but it's my nature and I have yet to figure out how to change such instincts.

The level of my anxiety grows exponentially with every additional family member. With my moms, I can stay pretty calm partly because we have a routine of comings and goings. But this weekend when we traveled to Grandma and Grandpa's house where my Uncle Paul and cousin Lindsey were also visiting, well, I could feel the anxiety well up in my throat.

Where's Grandpa? Where's Grandma? Where's Uncle Paul? Where are my moms? These thoughts raced through my head at all times and when we headed to the beach to go kayaking, well, I thought I'd go into a spasm of fits when Uncle Paul and cousin Lindsey took off down the inlet. Momma Gretchen contemplated going kayaking alone, but my persistent whining made her reconsider.
In addition to my human family, I had the additional responsibility of being with Argo, our boarder for the weekend. Argo's a sweet fellow, but I sensed he was a bit confused about where he was sleeping now, who he was meeting next, and why on earth he had to drive so far to get there. So in addition to watching my "pack" with great intensity, I kept Argo close by lest he freak out by the chaos of family.

He did well, but I know he was thankful for my attentiveness.
I've gotten better over the years about my anxiety, but I think my moms are right -- I need to relax a bit more, really enjoy myself, and know that no matter where I am, my family/pack is not far away.

My View

I love to go to Doris and Steven's house. They have a pool. They have a big garden. They have a dog. They have good food.

So when I was told I'd be going there last night, I was thrilled. Swimming. Chase. Eating. Scratches on my belly. What could be more perfect?

Only there were about 50 people there and I was kept on a leash. What torture!
More torturous, Ben was not on a leash and he kept dropping tennis balls into the pool. MY POOL.

And Bailey was there, Ben's cousin. Bailey wasn't on a leash and he kept inviting me to chase him, only I couldn't because it was a party and I wasn't allowed to PARTY with my friends. It might disturb the human party. Who made up these rules!

Ben found tennis ball after tennis ball and bounced them right in front of me.

Even Ben and Bailey didn't understand why I couldn't play. They sat quietly with questioning looks, but still no go...
I was a good boy. I only complained a little. I did what I was told. And at the end of the evening I went home dry and exhausted not by chase or fetch, but by practicing patience.

Sometimes you just have to be a good dog.

Dang it!