Water Dog

I grew up with labrador retrievers and a springer spaniel in the house. These dogs were hard-core water dogs. The springer (Shandy Gaff, bless his dear, smelly soul) used to stand in the lake with the water right at his chest and bark at the fish for hours and hours. My dad always thought it was amazing that no one took a pot-shot at him. The labs, well, they loved being in the water too.

So imagine my surprise upon adopting strange little Maggie – a beagle/doberman/who-the-hell-knows-what-else little beast – and finding out that the water just isn’t really her cup of tea. I was SHOCKED. And SURPRISED. And a little relieved, because at least it meant that I wouldn’t have to keep a big nasty towel in the trunk of my car to wipe her down with after walks, and because it also meant that I wouldn’t have to deal with that peculiar wet-dog odor that I grew up with.

And then imagine my surprise that after 2 weeks in Maine, with 2.5 labs (the third is a mix, and there is a basset hound too), she seems to like the water a lot more.

Maggie in the Damariscotta River

Here she is, giving the Damariscotta River a toe-dip. Silly (smelly) beast!

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