We enjoy taking them to a local lake or the Arkansas River and watching them retrieve whatever we toss in, or whatever they find on their own. Murphy, our senior dog, is from the old school and prefers simple sticks, while our goofy younger boy likes anything he can wrap his giant whale mouth around. He’s dragged back floating logs, wayward water toys, and fish carcasses. He is a persistent pup and when motivated he’ll swim rapids to chase down any good smelling stick. I call him my Chinese Water Hound, though Sharpei mix is more truthful.

Last summer I also starting taking Finnegan (Finn) biking with me, something I’ve been told is either very brave or extremely stupid. Since we’ve started biking, I’ve discovered a few things through trial and lots of error. I definitely avoid holding the leash tightly or wrapping it around my hand. This prevents Finn from yanking me off my bike for one of his impromptu bathroom breaks. I also lower the seat so that my feet can easily touch the ground. It cramps my legs when pedaling, but with this precaution, I have better control of him and live to ride another day.

Lori and Finnegan ready for takeoff

However obvious, it’s best not to let objects, like leashes, or scarves (don’t ask) get caught in the spokes.

It’s wise to keep your dog in a visible spot near your pedal, and to give him plenty of notice when turning. I learned this the hard way when Finn careened straight ahead to greet a cat while I was busy turning left. To avoid those mishaps, I now stick my foot in front of his face to slow him down before turning and I try really hard to avoid neighborhood felines.

Bring dog water and a portable bowl unless your pup has learned to guzzle from your sport bottle and try to bike during cooler times of the day. It’s also best to start your biking with short distances, and probably not in town with street traffic. No one needs to end up as an accident victim.

I really enjoy riding with Finnegan in the country, off leash, so he can race gleefully in the fields alongside my bike. He reminds me of an old western bandit chasing down the stagecoach filled with gold, or in this case, dog biscuits. He is fast when motivated by food, cats or squirrels.

This summer I’d like to get our dogs into fly ball. They get very excited when they watch professional dogs doing this on TV. If you’ve never seen it, it is a race to see how fast two dogs can simultaneously jump over a couple of short poles to reach the fly ball box. Once there, they press a lever that shoots out a tennis ball they catch in their mouth. Finally, they race back with it to the starting point. This is what the dog champions do. I don’t know how readily Finnegan will grasp the theory behind the sport. His motivation might be stronger if cats were shot out of the fly ball box. Murphy would seize the idea quickly, but he may be reluctant to interrupt his retirement to compete with the young guns.

Even so, this sport seems like an excellent way to drain a dog’s energy and also get rid of our large supply of beat up tennis balls. Perhaps I can persuade my husband to build a fly ball box to entertain the four legged “kids” this summer. It’s bound to be cheaper than summer camp.

Murphy

Our beloved elder dog Murphy passed on peacefully in his sleep on June 11, 2009. We will miss him more than a simple blog can express. We’re sure that he maintains a heavenly front row seat, closely watching his brother Finnegan’s misadventures. I can almost feel Murphy cringing.