Out in the common area where dandelions and grass compete, and the wonders of nature unfold throughout the days and nights, my two little female dogs played with abandon on this particular mid-morning. They were getting along nicely, working as a team, fetching a chewed-up rubber ball. The ball’s name was Mister Slimy. Mister Slimy’s predecessor was Bouncy Yellow. Bouncy yellow went down the street drain a while back.
They noticed things, such as a familiar friendly person approaching, or coyotes on the return from their hunt. They noticed cats. There was no shortage of cats to notice.
At this juncture in the story, I must tell you this: The dogs were trained to obey hand signals without fail. Teaching them to respond to hand signals was easy, really. They took it upon themselves to make it their job to respond, and they took pride in their job.
The community pool and spa were in close proximity to our play area. It was partially hidden by old rose bushes reverting to their rootstock. Once in a long while, they would produce a spectacular hybrid rose. The rose lasted until the groundskeepers took to the shrub with hedge trimmers.
To be continued…