Labradoodle & Goldendoodle Forum
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From the Kid-Free Living Humor Blog by Amy Vansant
(Hm. Maybe I should rephrase that title…)
LOST: One tennis ball. Formerly yellow, now the color of dirt. Possibly slimy. Smells PERFECT. If found please return to Gordon the Labradoodle. Reward!
The thing I feared most has happened. Gordon lost the tennis ball we call “Number One.” Number One Ball was the only tennis ball our obviously obsessive compulsive prone chocolate Labradoodle would use.
Now, don’t let this make you think he is nonchalant about his ball play in anyway shape or form. Gordon LOVES to play fetch. Probably in the grand scheme of things his favorite things in the world are:
Yes, I think my husband I come just under shade. He gets hot easily while doing #2 favorite thing and would probably sell us into slavery for shade after that.
But as much as Gordon LOVES to play ball, it has to be with Number One Ball. No other ball will do. You could throw him 57 balls and he
will sniff them all until he finds Number One Ball. You can throw him
Number One 10 times in a row, with him eagerly bringing it back each
time, then slip in what appears (to my stupid human nose) to be a
similar ball instead, and he will refuse to fetch it, and then sit in
front of you until you admit you have Number One.
He has been known to bring Number One into the house and sleep with it like a teddy bear. You’ll see him napping somewhere cool and then
suddenly you notice there is a dirty tennis ball nestled between his
dream-twitching paws. You can be sitting at your desk, happily typing
along, and Gordon will bring Number One into the office and DRIBBLE IT
(dropping and picking it up repeatedly to get your attention) until you
go play ball with him. If you make him leave it outside when he doesn’t
think he was quite tired enough yet (Tongue on the ground? What
tongue on the ground, nooo… I’m fiiiine…
throwtheballthrowtheballthrowtheball..) he will sit and stare at it
through the sliding glass door.
Alas, Number One mysteriously disappeared. We’ve looked EVERYWHERE. For days Gordon refused to play ball and just wandered sadly around the
yard, sniffing, searching for Number One. A week later, out of sheer
desperation, he’s resorted to playing fetch with an old lacrosse ball we
inherited on a walk one day, but it just isn’t the same.
Wondering if this was a Labradoodle trait in general, I posted the question on a Doodle Chat site to see if other Doodle’s were as in
need of Lexapro as Gordon. Apparently, he isn’t alone. In fact, there’s
a Doodle girl named Millie out there who trumps him. Her mother Bev
wrote:
ABSOLUTELY! That is EXACTLY what Millie does.
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