Today, September 15, is Ivy’s fourth birthday. We went out back to throw the ball, and she will get a nice walk later when it’s cooler.
What a difference she has made in my life. From being a crazed widow to a happy, singing person, she has done that.
We are quite the therapy dog team. However, Ivy hasn’t been able to work, same as people due to Covid19. She needs me to take her, and where we visit, people aren’t allowed to be there.
So she is content, make that maniacal, to chase the ball from the ‘ChuckIt”. She really is good. She comes back to me with the ball and lies down. One exception: she will keep the ball and paw once on the grass, then slide and roll all over. It’s so cute. I am lucky to have such an obedient dog.
We haven’t been to Tucson due to Covid, and I doubt I will this year. Another spike will come, and to quote Tony Frank, Chancellor of the CSU system: “Mary, it’s going to be a bad winter.”
Other than people who are sick and dying, I have enjoyed the quarantine. I only go to Safeway, Trader Joe’s and Walgreens. Sometimes the bank. And the secret dog park with a trail for me to walk, no toys for Ivy, she just runs and runs. She knows where the water is, and gets soaking wet. The other day, she put the whole side of her face in the water bowl along with a ball she found. Then she paws out the water, and goes running again. Wash, rinse, repeat.
We also have to wish Sissy Cali a happy birthday. She’s Ivy’s sister (littermate, c’mon Mary did you not go to vet school?) They are quite the pair.
Ivy is sleeping on the couch. I occasionally hold a mirror under her nose. Hey wait! I have lots of stethoscopes.
I need to eat, now. Ivy won’t allow me to eat before morning game of fetch. I drew the line at not letting me stretch out. Hips sore in the morning, so we walk later, as I said, when I’m not so sore.
Happy birthday, my little one, many more.
Love, Your Dogmother