... in one weekend.
Saturday was beautiful summer day here, reaching about 90 degrees but with a nice dry wind. My three-year old daughter and I took Penny to the dog park in the afternoon and it was almost empty, presumably because of the weather. But it was a wonderful time. With no other dogs threatening rogue kisses, my daughter took off running through the meadow and Penny would run along side her. They played hide and seek within the bushes. And both lay down together in the grass at a shady spot. I was just smiling, thinking it was a soundtrack short of a movie trailer. Then we had friends with kids over for barbecuing that evening and Penny was great with everyone and showing (mostly) great self control.
I knew I needed to post this description as I feel that most that I contribute here seems like complaining about bad behavior. She must have heard me think that as Sunday she was a different dog. Nervous energy consumed her throughout the day as we were doing chores around the house and she was constantly and I mean constantly disregarding us, stealing and destroying things all day long leaving us exasperated.
And that sums up our life with a vizsla. Angel one day. Devil the next. And then back to an angel who wants to curl up in our laps at the end of the day.
Saturday was beautiful summer day here, reaching about 90 degrees but with a nice dry wind. My three-year old daughter and I took Penny to the dog park in the afternoon and it was almost empty, presumably because of the weather. But it was a wonderful time. With no other dogs threatening rogue kisses, my daughter took off running through the meadow and Penny would run along side her. They played hide and seek within the bushes. And both lay down together in the grass at a shady spot. I was just smiling, thinking it was a soundtrack short of a movie trailer. Then we had friends with kids over for barbecuing that evening and Penny was great with everyone and showing (mostly) great self control.
I knew I needed to post this description as I feel that most that I contribute here seems like complaining about bad behavior. She must have heard me think that as Sunday she was a different dog. Nervous energy consumed her throughout the day as we were doing chores around the house and she was constantly and I mean constantly disregarding us, stealing and destroying things all day long leaving us exasperated.
And that sums up our life with a vizsla. Angel one day. Devil the next. And then back to an angel who wants to curl up in our laps at the end of the day.