“All athletes wear tracksuits” she giggled.

Howdy blogaroos. Squirmy here on another Manic Monday. The start of another wild week. I hope yours is PONtastic.

Meanwhile, MY life had quite the upset this weekend. OK. Relative to many peoples’ problems, perhaps “upset” isn’t the best word. Let’s say I had a new “experience” this weekend. Another one of those bright ideas by the Warden.

As you know, on some mornings I go on a GBH. That’s a golf ball hunt. And I like to go deep into the woods to find my quarry. The problem I have encountered, though, is that when I emerge from thick brush, I bring most of it back with me. Combine that with mud – and well, after three successful retrieves, I look like one of those feral dogs that lives in the woods. But wearing a cow bell.

Last week, it took the Warden over a half hour to make me somewhat presentable when we got home. Meanwhile, the Boss was shouting that he had been waiting for breakfast for HOURS and the Coyote was standing with his legs crossed because he hadn’t had his walk yet. The Warden had to remove about a thousand tiny little branches from my chest and my legs. And then she needed to wash my brown feet.

So- on Saturday she had an “idea.” I could hear her in the garage rustling through boxes. Then I heard a “yay” and the garage door was flung open and she invited me in. Now I’m used to being groomed – but I thought it a bit odd that she was plopping me onto the grooming table at 6:15 AM – before my walk. And then I saw “it.” A strange looking contraption with a zipper and reflective markings. She told me to sit and took my paw and slid it into the leg of the contraption. I thought “what the .. ?” After all my legs were in, she zipped me up, being careful not to catch my hair. The contraption is aptly called a Hurtta – which is perfect because when I stepped out of the garage wearing it, and I saw the look on the faces of the other guys, well, it hurta my feelings. The Warden giggled and said “All athletes wear tracksuits.” I didn’t know how to move. I nearly fell over while standing still because it felt so weird.

She put on my leash and stepped out the door for my morning walk. I took five steps and couldn’t move. Where was that swishing sound coming from? A few more steps – walking like a cowboy who just finished a really long trail ride – and I realized the swishing sound was me. The fabric of the contraption made a sound as I moved.

The Warden coaxed me forward and I ran as if to get away from the swish. But I couldn’t. I began to panic- how was I going to pee and do my business wearing this thing? Then I realized the designers of the contraption put holes in all the right places. Phew.

So down the road we went. With me looking like some kind of Fraggle.

By the time we got to the trail, I was trotting along fairly normally- with my fuzzy butt and nibby tail protruding like big puffballs.


You can hear my bell in the Warden’s pocket. I’m not subjected to wearing it until I begin my GBH.

At first when I was let free, I did this weird run – because the swish sound was intensified. But I did get used to it – sorta. Here you see me on a return, and you’ll notice I look back quickly to double check there is no swish monster behind me.


Yesterday it was a repeat performance. But I was no longer worried about the swish. In fact, I was feeling pretty proud of my attire – thinking I looked like some kind of Olympian. The Boss said not to let it go to my head.

Well it’s almost time to get suited up. I wonder if these things come in different colors. Hey – I wonder if they come in camouflage? I’d REALLY be cool hunting in the woods. No balls could get away from me. Although, the bell would still give me away….

Have a good one. Peace and paws up. Stay safe.

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