The most fun

The most fun comes when you are not looking. Most people I know spend dollars on going out: movies, bars, shopping. I don't have the cash for that, but I don't get much fun from those things anyway. Most movies are boring, I can't drink anymore, and getting more stuff is no fun, in general.

I spent 4 hours yesterday watching my 9 year-old Belgian Tervuren scan the sky obsessively for swallows in my neighbor's yard. Each one she saw was chased and herded as only a fiercely-driven herding dog can. Herding flying birds is not normal for the herding group. Sure they will herd ducks or geese on the ground for practice, but most herding dogs were bred to work on sheep or cattle.

Yesterday, she was entranced by the swooping swallows, circling around, diving to the ground, soaring up again. She followed them endlessly as one after another dove through the yard. Two other dogs were obsessed too. There was the English Springer Spaniel that taught Gryffindor about swallows and a young mini-dachshund who just found it fun.

Great fun, it was. Sitting there watching my beautiful Tervy girl chase, spin, and fly herself across the ground. Her eyes were so bright. Her tail held high wagging in the tight arc that meant high interest and happiness. I sat there on the driveway laughing and smiling, petting all the other dogs that weren't hypnotized by the swallows. I could have watched her forever. She was doing what she loved. All my dogs have taught me huge lessons. My Sasha was a warrior/queen. Patton and Elizabeth I in one. My Robyn was just like the song: Don't worry, be happy, joy incarnate. My Bitsy, my little girl, was a lesson in love that wasn't supposed to be, but where there's a way, there's a dachsie. My Gryffindor, she is the athlete. Her joy is is in movement, even just for movement's sake. She is elegance and grace; classic lines and classic looks. She has a turbo speed where her feet barely skim the ground. I never saw such beauty in movement in my whole life. I catch my breath when I watch her.