This is Charlie. He's a Boxer, like me. On the day before Easter, he came over to meet me and play. He's only 2 years old, and he had a tough start to his life. He's a rescue from the Plymouth pound and he sometimes can be skittish around some people. He seemed to like Mom right away, and me, so that was good. It didn't take too long for me to teach him how to go in and out of the back door, look for bunnies in the back yard and help Mom with kitchen clean-up. (He doesn't eat cookies!! I don't get it.)
While Mom and her friends colored Easter eggs and made a LOT of noise, Charlie and I hung around the house and waited for the dog-fun to get started.
He found the water bowl. He made even more slobber than I do. That's saying something.
Looking for bunnies.
Checking out the back yard.
Waiting for the dog fun to start.
Once we started playing frisbee, it was evident that Charlie was a star when it came to leaping and jumping. He rarely had all his feet on the ground.
I was always careful to keep one foot on the frisbee- when it wasn't in someone's mouth.
Charlie air-borne again.
Both of us are REALLY FAST! Like lightening.
Seriously?
Boing!
I knew jumping was not the way to get the frisbee.
Even though he could fly, running was the key to frisbee fetch.
He was a cute kid, and he could jump, but it's who gets the frisbee in the end that counts.
