Past the rock and almost home.
It makes it difficult to maintain a noble profile.
In September I had my first ever visit to a creek, the Brandywine. I've been around water, of course - rain (hate it) and puddles (hop around them). And I really, really hate getting a bath.
I tiptoed in with one of my family; if he can stand it, I can. And then a little deeper. And then there was so much to do!
They threw the ball into the creek again! That's littering!
I have better things to do with my time. What do they think this is, a game?
Beware the fearsome cocker-dile! Grrrrr!
Lord of all I survey.
This is more like it - one of my favorite balls. I wonder how it got in the creek?
The water really brings out my naturally curly hair.
Hmmm, maybe there's some truth to the rumor about great-grandma and that French poodle.
I'm not just a hunting dog, I'm also a retriever! Here I'm retrieving a leaf - this creek needs a lot of work.
And look - I'm doing the dog paddle! Without lessons!
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