Grrr. I thought it was Sunday but apparently it's actually Caturday - the day when the local cats use my dog to get their zoomie adrenaline rush and week's worth of hard exercise.

Spike's normal standard of recall is pretty fucking high. But by the time the third cat had offered itself up for happy fun chase games, his adrenaline level had cut off most of his brain function - and what brain he had left knew damn well that I'd take him home the moment he came within touching distance. So he wouldn't, and although he was taking care to stay close and not attempting to leave the park, I was forced to use trick psychology* to get the leash back on him.

If I'd been stupid enough to have Squish completely loose, I'd still be hunting him now.



*I gave Squish his ball. I had a spare in my pocket, but Spike didn't know that till he'd come back and given me the "OMG YOU DID WHAT??!!" face.
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From: [identity profile] lizblackdog.livejournal.com


*watching* Hell, yes. He looks just like him - he doesn't exactly sound like him, but there's Dylanosity in the voice.

From: [identity profile] danasaur.livejournal.com


It would be creepy if he sounded like him...and so I'm glad he doesn't...but there's still something very bobish going on there.
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