The F Word

It's not what you think. :) It's F for Frisbee. We have problems in the house with language and Samson since the little bugger knows about every word that comes out of our collective mouths. It used to be bad with Allie but she was old enough to know when it was 'her' time and when our time was consumed with cooking, cleaning, etc. If we said, Allie do you want to go in the car? She would respond with reckless abandon, running and barking until we all got in the car. She could differentiate that from, 'Paul would you like to wash the car today?' She had sophisticated discernment, and context. She would hear car, look around and then put her head back down. She knew when it was her time and when it wasn't.

Samson does not know. He hears the word like walk - even in the context of 'I need to walk out a kink in my foot' (which happens post surgery) and pretty soon he is at the back door, barking at the leash, waiting to go out and check the neighborhood for bad things like squirrels and rabbits. Since we were up early and with the beautiful sunshine, decided to oblige and take Samson on a walk. It was stunning - not too cool, not too warm.

But then I said the word - in our house, the F word, Frisbee. And it was as if the world would end unless we played Frisbee. So we did that too. I try and use the term - FD (short for Flat disks) but sometimes Samson tilts his head at me with a I know you are trying to trick me...

We had a busy day Saturday, running errands, running Handsome Boy and playing with our puppy-sitting pups. Paul invited a friend for dinner and Paul made a magnificent meal with pan-seared filets with cabernet (with capers) sauce, long grain rice and walnut-apple-Gorgonzola cheese salad. The wine was good and we ate and chatted well into the night.

This will be another busy week. But right now, no snow in sight (for the moment) and the Red Wings are playing Chicago. Go Wings!