- April 26, 2024
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The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Bear was relentlessly barking at anything that made a wave.
It was Sunday and I had made the executive decision to put all work and laundry aside to take my Rottweiler, Bear, to the dog park in New Smyrna Beach. Bear had already made my morning difficult by spreading my trash throughout the living room and then sneezing in my face, but I was still adamant on having a good day.
Bear napped in the backseat on the way to the beach. Apparently the 25 minute trip was just too long to stay awake. So when we arrived, I expected him to be wide awake. Not the case.
It took at least five dog treats and lots of loud clapping to awake the loudly-snoring Bear. He stumbled out of the car like he had been out late partying last night, and we started slowly walking towards the beach.
We passed one elderly woman who quickly scooped up her tiny, white pup at the sight of big-ole Bear. She then whispered loudly “That’s a big boy fluffy.” Bear, obviously offended, turned up his nose and walked on to his next potential friend, a white, hyperactive pitt bull that was intent on getting a nearby squirrel. They sniffed each others' butts, barked at the squirrel in unison and went on their separate ways. Total best friend material.
When we finally made it to the beach, Bear was confused. My first attempt to get him to test the waters was unsuccessful as he barked at the waves and then laid down for nap number two. Desperate to force some common interests between me and my dog, I lured Bear into the calm waters with a treat. Just like any good mother would do.
He was hesitant at first but eventually he warmed up enough to the water that he determined it was good enough to lay down for nap number three — until a wave crashed over his face and he started growling at it.
After he calmed down, Bear was one with the ocean again. He waded around, close behind me as we walked up and down the beach.
A man and his golden retriever were nearby playing fetch in the ocean. It looked like something straight out of a IAMS commercial. Bear was intrigued and slowly waded over to them. I was intrigued that Bear was intrigued of something other than food and naps, so I let him investigate. But instead of running to play, he just got close enough to sit and watch.
“Does your dog want to play?” The man was obviously questionable of Bear’s serious manner.
I shrugged and the man made an attempt to toss the ball at Bear, which just hit him in the face, and dropped into the water. The golden retriever retrieved the ball with the ecstatic attitude that you would expect from a dog at the beach.
“Sorry, he must be broken.” I admit to using a line from one of my favorite childhood movies, “Cats and Dogs” (Basically in the movie, the dog isn’t playful because he’s a secret agent. I have the same suspicions for Bear).
“No, he’s not broken,” the man said. “He’s a cop dog. He doesn’t play, he just observes.”
At that moment, Bear looked back at me as if to say, “He’s right and there’s nothing exciting here. Can we please go home and nap?”
And we did.
