I'm going to jump off the chronological thread of this blog for a moment to comment that dog people are an interesting bunch. Some are really nice, some are really strange, and some are really holier-than-thou. Kind of like humans in general, I suppose. There is a lovely dog beach near me on Lake Michigan - a microcosm of these dog people in action.
Nadine and I started going to the beach in March. The first time was with Melissa and her dog, Emmett, and went really well. I hadn't gone before then because when I got Nadie, she couldn't walk that far; once she could walk longer distances, it was winter and the beach was iced over from our blizztastic December and February. I didn't really know how she would react to the sand and water, but on her first visit, she really took to it. Well, the sand at least.
I call Nadine a little truffle hunter because she loves to sniff things out. It's probably her favorite thing to do. Her favorite toys all involve sniffing (such as Kong-type toys) and she'll spend 5 minutes snorting her way around a well peed-on tree. So on her first beach visit, she didn't do much other than sniff about and get three paws full of burrs. Emmett was the only other dog there so there wasn't much playing...just nosing around for dead crayfish.
The second time at the beach, she played shy and refused to play with the other dogs, instead hovering around my feet like a 4-year-old. We didn't get close to the water because it was still really cold and I was more focused on getting her to play with other dogs.
Today, her third visit, there were quite a few other small dogs playing. We were a ways from the dogs and I had gotten closer to the lake to introduce her to the water and see her reaction. Before I could do that, three of the small dogs came over to meet her. She may have been a little wigged by all three at once, because when they walked away, she followed their humans instead of playing with them or staying by me. One guy with a little dachshund was right at the edge of the water and Nadine walked up behind him. She follows people around on the street, so I wasn't surprised to she her following him.
The dachshund jumped toward Nadine to play and suddenly Nadine sprung toward the water, ending up with a couple paws in the lake. I was still a good 15 ft away. She had never gone into the lake before nor even got a paw in, but she hates baths so I figured she would feel that water and jump back out. Nope. Not even close. Instead, the water must have riled her up even more and she dove DEEPER into the lake, well over her head. I raced over as soon as she did that, watching as she began to sink under the water. The dachshund guy looked back at me, a concerned look on his face. As I reached the edge of the lake, her head popped to the surface as her little paws started to paddle! Just as quickly she went back under again. I looked at my brand new, not-yet-waterproofed Keen hiking shoes that I bought to wear on safari in Africa in one month....and walked straight into the lake. She popped up again, this time paws flying. Nadine could swim! She was paddling like mad, and thankfully, coming right toward me.
I fished her shivering body out and turned around to put her down and start wiping the water off. I was at first so frightened for Nadine, while simultaneously thrilled by her Phelpsian breast stroke, that I didn't notice the stares. I looked up to the concerned dachshund guy to explain that she had never swam before and that I never thought she would jump in like that and she was a puppy mill rescue so she does unexpected things sometimes. As I began speaking, I saw behind him a sea of disapproving faces, staring at me. I wasn't embarrassed by Nadine's first attempt to swim or my going in after her, I was actually amused once I saw she could swim, yet suddenly I was ostracized from this pack of dog owners. They were embarrassed for me. Only the owner of the dachshund would even speak to me, everyone else just glared at me down their superior noses, as if their dog would never dream of doing something so horrifying. Yeah, right. Don't pretend like your puggle doesn't eat his own vomit, Mr. Fancy-pants.
But as Nadine started to shiver from the cold and the shock of her very first polar bear plunge, I could feel the eyes continuing to glare at me, willing me to take my foolish dog and go. After all, what if her naughty dogness rubbed off on their perfect widdle puppies! So, while loudly exclaiming that Nadine, "must be cold so we will just have to go home," I picked up my cold, wet mess and, head held high, carried her through the gauntlet of chastising faces and off the beach. Dachshund guy left at the same time. Whether that was on purpose or coincidentally, I like to think he was my lone supporter in the sea of holier-than-thous.
But hey, Nadie can swim! Good dog!
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