Sweet dreams

Dan and I are on our way the park on a gorgeous summer evening. There's a slight breeze, the birds are particularly chirpy and I've finally mastered life on three. We get to the "big hill" and I'm ready for the big test. 

This is my moment of truth.

I sit in front of Dan.

"Water?" he asks.

I don't move. He knows what I want.

He puts the water back in the bag and pulls out the frisbee.

He fires it down the hill. It's a perfect throw. And I'm off.

I push off with back right. I've been strengthening it by hopping in and out of bed. I get a great jump. The frisbee's in sight and I'm keeping up. I dig my front claws into the ground with every gallop to pull myself forward. My front legs are super strong now. And my chest is as big as its ever been. I'm Buff McBufferson. 

I'm tracking the frisbee with hawk-like precision. I can't jump for it anymore so I have to catch it on the fly. But I've done the math: I have to be within seven inches of the frisbee when it's at snout level. That's how far I can stretch my neck forward. I know this because I made Uncle Peter measure it at Passover dinner.

The frisbee hits its high point and it's coming down now. It's spinning counter-clockwise which means I have to approach it slightly from the left so it rotates into my jowl.

I take a quick glance ahead. In a split second, I chart my path. I pick my spot. 83 strides away.

I stretch my neck and kick it into 5th gear. The frisbee's dropping fast but it's on course. And so am I.

This is going to happen. 

Six strides away now.

I open my mouth. I can hear the whiz of the frisbee (the whizbee).

I reach out...

TOUCHDOWN!

I look up and everyone I've ever loved is at the top of the hill cheering me on. Winston and Kenzo and Ella from Trinity. Winnie-Not-Sookie from the Argyle. Jenna, my first dog walker. And even those two RCMP officers from the ferry to PEI. 

And then they shower me with cheese.

Mmm.