The weather has been holding up astonishingly. Today it was bright, brisk and breezy. Since the dread gloom of daylight "saving" time is still a week away, it was also sunny into the late afternoon. (As it should be.) So, i decided to pick up a roll of developed film and then take Nicki for a chuck n' swim.
He had already chewed his floating rubber balls, so on the way down i stopped off to buy another pair for 6.99. Chuck-It balls don't come cheap.
Oh goody! New Bals!! <cab scamper><cap scamper>
As i got into the Jeep, Nicki immediately went for the balls. You could see in his eyes the delight for new fun things.
Nah... Nicki. Wait.
If i gave him the balls now, they'd be punctured by the time we got to the bay. At waters edge he's pretty decent about it. He chomps hard on the ball when he retrieves it in the water, but drops it pretty readily when he comes to shore. The ball survives. On the back seat of the car, however, he will simply gnaw it to shreds.
I gave him one his hard rubber non-destructible lacrosse land-bals. He wasn't interested. He wanted to gnaw the new ones.
This was interesting. As a spherical bouncy thing, one ball is as good as the next. Nicki loves spherical bouncy things, but he draws a distinction between new ones and old ones. New bals are more exciting.
What is it about newness that increases interest and excitement -- that makes for "better"?
I think it is the concept of happenstance. A ball is a good fun thing and, with the appearance of a new one, a good fun thing has reoccurred. The happenstance makes for happiness. This i think is the rudiment of what we humans call good fortune or blessing.
After picking up my film we headed toward the bay. Nicki knows his locations and as i drove straight, instead of turning left, he started to paw my shoulder and whine and squeal. As we got nearer he got closer to just plain bonkers and when we got there he bounded out the door and rushed toward the water.
I got the stuff together as quickly as i could and followed him over the dead tree trunks that mark out the beach. He was already prance-hopping by waters edge and so as not to tease him any longer i hurried up and chucked the ball without hesitation or paying attention to what my eye actually told me about the "lay of the water."
Dumb move.
Breezy meant that the water was being wind-blown into little choppy waves moving away from shore. I saw the where the ball landed and Nicki also got the general direction. But the sun was in our eyes and as he got closer, the reflections and shadows off the waves hid the ball from his view.
For a while i could still see where the ball was -- off to the right just a few yards further from where Nicki was. But Nicki couldn't see it and paddled left... and further left.
On shore i walked to the right and called to him. He saw me and turned around but then started paddling back to shore. No! No! "Gw'on, Nick." "Gw'on" and i made a direction motion with my arm.
Nicki knows that Gw'on means go ahead, and i think he's beginning to get what pointing is about. So he started swimming out again but couldn't find the ball. By this time neither could i and finding the ball became less a concern than Nicki's safety.
He of course was determined but i kept on eye on him and on how far out he was going as he swam around in circles in the Spirit of Labrador looking to retrieve the ball.
Eventually i called him back and he returned to shore, obviously disappointed. I was curious as to where the ball might have been blown to and estimating from the direction of the waves, i thought it might have got diagonally to the rocks to the left of the U-shaped beach. Nicki and i bounded the boulders along one side of the U until I got to a place to where the ball might have floated.
Indian style i shaded my eyes and scanned for the ball to no avail. As I looked down, i noticed Nicki staring expectantly up at me, waiting for me to give the whoop of joy. He knows that i am looking and that having failed himself it is up to me to retrieve the day.
Not.
Sorry, Nicki. No bal.
An old geezer with a handsome cat, whom he called his baby, was watching us from his truck. He smiled and said he couldn't see the ball either even with his binoculars.
There was no point loosing another new ball in these waters. So i went back to Jeep where i found an old but intact tennis ball. We went back to the beach, and this time i was careful to chuck the ball into a place to the right short of where the wind was kicking up the waves.
He had already chewed his floating rubber balls, so on the way down i stopped off to buy another pair for 6.99. Chuck-It balls don't come cheap.
Oh goody! New Bals!! <cab scamper><cap scamper>
As i got into the Jeep, Nicki immediately went for the balls. You could see in his eyes the delight for new fun things.
Nah... Nicki. Wait.
If i gave him the balls now, they'd be punctured by the time we got to the bay. At waters edge he's pretty decent about it. He chomps hard on the ball when he retrieves it in the water, but drops it pretty readily when he comes to shore. The ball survives. On the back seat of the car, however, he will simply gnaw it to shreds.
I gave him one his hard rubber non-destructible lacrosse land-bals. He wasn't interested. He wanted to gnaw the new ones.
This was interesting. As a spherical bouncy thing, one ball is as good as the next. Nicki loves spherical bouncy things, but he draws a distinction between new ones and old ones. New bals are more exciting.
What is it about newness that increases interest and excitement -- that makes for "better"?
I think it is the concept of happenstance. A ball is a good fun thing and, with the appearance of a new one, a good fun thing has reoccurred. The happenstance makes for happiness. This i think is the rudiment of what we humans call good fortune or blessing.
After picking up my film we headed toward the bay. Nicki knows his locations and as i drove straight, instead of turning left, he started to paw my shoulder and whine and squeal. As we got nearer he got closer to just plain bonkers and when we got there he bounded out the door and rushed toward the water.
I got the stuff together as quickly as i could and followed him over the dead tree trunks that mark out the beach. He was already prance-hopping by waters edge and so as not to tease him any longer i hurried up and chucked the ball without hesitation or paying attention to what my eye actually told me about the "lay of the water."
Dumb move.
Breezy meant that the water was being wind-blown into little choppy waves moving away from shore. I saw the where the ball landed and Nicki also got the general direction. But the sun was in our eyes and as he got closer, the reflections and shadows off the waves hid the ball from his view.
For a while i could still see where the ball was -- off to the right just a few yards further from where Nicki was. But Nicki couldn't see it and paddled left... and further left.
On shore i walked to the right and called to him. He saw me and turned around but then started paddling back to shore. No! No! "Gw'on, Nick." "Gw'on" and i made a direction motion with my arm.
Nicki knows that Gw'on means go ahead, and i think he's beginning to get what pointing is about. So he started swimming out again but couldn't find the ball. By this time neither could i and finding the ball became less a concern than Nicki's safety.
He of course was determined but i kept on eye on him and on how far out he was going as he swam around in circles in the Spirit of Labrador looking to retrieve the ball.
 |
| It was a earlier and brighter when we were chucking |
Eventually i called him back and he returned to shore, obviously disappointed. I was curious as to where the ball might have been blown to and estimating from the direction of the waves, i thought it might have got diagonally to the rocks to the left of the U-shaped beach. Nicki and i bounded the boulders along one side of the U until I got to a place to where the ball might have floated.
Indian style i shaded my eyes and scanned for the ball to no avail. As I looked down, i noticed Nicki staring expectantly up at me, waiting for me to give the whoop of joy. He knows that i am looking and that having failed himself it is up to me to retrieve the day.
Not.
Sorry, Nicki. No bal.
An old geezer with a handsome cat, whom he called his baby, was watching us from his truck. He smiled and said he couldn't see the ball either even with his binoculars.
There was no point loosing another new ball in these waters. So i went back to Jeep where i found an old but intact tennis ball. We went back to the beach, and this time i was careful to chuck the ball into a place to the right short of where the wind was kicking up the waves.
Needless to say, the tennis ball did not last long, but Nicki got maybe 10 swim n' fetches out of it.
Getting back to "truck," i fetched one of the hard rubber land-balls, which i chucked down the empty street, giving Nicki a several good hard sprints, before jumping into the Jeep and heading home.
