I am happy to report that Milo is doing exceedingly
well. I am taking him to obedience class each week and he is showing
great promise. I have also started agility class with Milo. This is a
new one for me, so we are both still trying to figure it out. (Yes,
this is a thinly veiled plea for help from those who have more
experience with agility.) The good news is that Milo loves agility
class and I am sure it is just a matter of time before we figure out
what it is we have to do.
We traveled to Maine for
vacation this summer. We stayed where we had access to a dog friendly
beach. Milo was welcome on the beach any time day or night. As a
result, when we went to the water, Milo went with us. The first picture
is of Milo swimming in Maine.
I have elderly parents
that live in Florida. I travel there often and Milo comes with me. I
found a dog park on the beach and dogs and humans can swim and play
together in the water. When I am in Florida, I make a point of taking
Milo every day. He just loves it, especially if there is a dog or two
he can play with. The ball goes everywhere Milo goes, it is now just a
part of him.
The second picture was
taken this afternoon at the Isaac Walton League. The Isaac Walton
League is a 625 acre conservation farm and woodland. Dogs are welcome
and with 625 acres there is plenty of room for Milo to run. Members
of the Isaac Walton League are expected to do a certain number of hours
of volunteer work. In the background of the picture are the trees I
helped plant this Saturday.
To do my volunteer work, I
had to leave Milo at home on Saturday morning. He took this
opportunity to write his first poem. I should explain that all our
Weimaraners have been poets, we even had one that was a philosopher.
Lazlo, after rolling in horse poop one day, postulated , “I stink,
therefore others know I am.” Anyway here is Milo’s first poem. To all
receiving this email, Happy Thanksgiving and a great Holiday Season.
Cuddle with me mom
For I am sad without my dad
Scratch me behind my ears, mom
For I am sad without my dad
Feed me now, mom
For I am sad without my dad
Throw the ball, mom
Throw the ball
Throw the ball
Throw the ball
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