Swimming in The Bahamas (Oso's Rescue - Day 23)

After a couple of unseasonably warm days and blue sky, the temperature had taken a dive. It was below freezing this morning and the grassy front yard was covered in icy crystals. This chilly weather put a damper on our plans for the day.

I was hoping to meet up with Suzanne and Piper sometime this morning. We were planning to head to a lake near the foothills that we had never visited before with the dogs. You still hadn't quite fully grasped the concept of swimming yet, so I was hoping to take just a few dogs; or no other dogs at all. This way we would be able to practice the retrieving game we had played in the living room the previous night into the water.

I throw the toy. You go fetch the toy AND bring it back. We had practiced this many times now, and you were finally starting to catch on. The other night when I was throwing the toy over the bench that I had turned on it's side in the living room, we even played another similar game (but with different rules). In this game I would hold on to your collar when I tossed the toy. I asked you to wait. The idea of this game was to try to teach you to stop, behave, and focus (all at the same time).

Still quite the puppy, sometimes when I would toss the bumper, you would only focus on it for a spit second. Instead you would whip your head from left to right to see if there was anything else going on. Then, deciding that the toy was still the best thing happening at that moment, you writhed and wriggled in attempt to break free to fetch the toy.

But gradually, even this game was helping to improve your focus little by little. Now whenever I tossed the toy, you were beginning to watch it intently. You starred hard at that little toy with the purple rope on the end and waited for me to say the magic word, "Oso"!

Once I spoke your name, you would peel out on the carpet, bail over the bench, and pounced on the bumper with your front feet. You quickly picked it up and made an about face. You always returned a little slower, but without the distractions of the other dogs, you were returning.

You accomplished all these steps while still on a zippy leash. This way I could wrangle you in when you occasionally got a wild hair and decided that a little victory lap was necessary. You pranced across the floor with your head and tail held high in the air. And just out of shear giddiness, you flipped the bumper up above your head and tried to catch it. It's a good thing the other dogs were put away, a least one of them would have simply darted across your path and snagged it right out of the air.

After breakfast I took the dogs out for our usual short walk around the front of the property. It was freezing! The fog was hanging low to the ground and I could feel a slight mist on my already frizzy hair. It was much to cold for first time swimming lessons at the lake. On a whim, I decided the best plan for the day was to make the hour and a half-long drive north to Bow Wow Fun Towne, which had an indoor swimming pool for dogs.

Despite the drive, this was a fairly inexpensive way to spend the day with a dog. Although, the price went up exponentially when we brought all the dogs to swim. Swimming a single dog was quite affordable. The ten dollar cost was well worth spending time out of the weather for me, and letting you swim to your heart's content in the balmy 75 degree salt water.

I had hoped that by brining you swim in the warm water, you might not have to get out for being too cold. Although you were finally growing some muscle mass, and had filled in and bulked up since we brought you home, you could probably tolerate the cold water just fine.

Labrador Retrievers were derived from the St. John's Water Dog (which was actually an ancestor of the Newfoundland Dog) who were bred for retrieving fishing nets and floats from the icy waters of the island of Newfoundland. You were built for cold water. But even though I could pull on a wetsuit as swim in the chilly Puget Sound for an hour, I would still prefer to float around for hours in somewhere like the bahamas (Not that I've ever been able to actually visit the Bahamas; but my imagination of it is nice).

When we first arrived at the pool it was mid-afternoon. Between dragging my feet in the morning, getting the dogs fed and short list of chores done, and picking Suzanne and Piper up the next city over, the day had flown by much to quickly. It took another hour and a half to make the drive up to the city of Kenmore, on the North side of Lake Washington, with mid-day traffic.

The swimming pool was just one part of a doggy daycare facility. It was owned by a woman I met about 2 years prior during a dock jumping competition, hosted by members of the Puget Sound DockDogs club, during a large 2-day street festival. Mary told me that she recently purchased this facility, which came with a swimming pool, and thought maybe it could be a place where some of our members might like to swim.

Although it was some time before I again approached her about the swimming facility, we finally worked out a deal that would benefit her business and provide a place for our DockDogs club to have twice monthly practices. This was a match made in heaven, and afforded dock jumping dogs of all breeds and sizes the opportunity to bring their dogs to closest thing to the Bahamas for dogs in Northwest Washington. The pool was 30 feet long and nearly 20 feet wide. It was a respectable sized pool for most dogs to safely swim or jump into.

Today we were going to Mary's place not to focus on jumping, but to work on more basic skills; swimming lessons. Suzanne brought a change of clothes and was prepared to wade chest high into the pool in the name of teaching you how to swim. I had more confidence, and figured you would eventually get into the water under your own accord.

Over the years I learned that if I was planning any swimming activity involving dogs, that I should plan on being prepared by having a complete change of clothes close at hand. It is inevitable, that if I forget a change of clothes, I will be the one soaked to the bone from top to bottom or the one who was just sent tumbling into the pool. Although I have yet to fall in the pool, I know it's just a matter of time and luck.

In hopes to beat the odds, I have become like a well-prepared scout. I carry a backpack with a complete change of clothes, and at least one extra towel, to every dog activity taking place any distance from my own home. Complete with socks, underwear, shirts, pants, and shoes, I am prepared for the worst and expecting to ward off a potentially soggy ride home at the end of the day.

When we arrived at Mary's, one of her new employees greeted us and checked us in at the front desk. We each paid the ten bucks, grabbed our towels, and walked you and Piper into the pool area. I reached behind me and closed the door to the reception area . The door was meant to prevent dogs from leaving the pool area, skidding across the reception area, and mopping the floor as they go.

Piper was excited, and you were feeding off her energy. You weren't really sure what was so exciting, but you knew there was something, simply because Piper was excited. Piper, being a fairly mellow dog, wasn't always excited. But if there is one thing that she learned to be excited about it was coming to Bow Wow to go swimming with any of her friends.

Around the pool was a large amount of decking. Nearly 10 or 12 feet on two sides of the pool, it provided a good amount of room for the dogs to play around the two sides without bumping into one another.

There was a long ramp that stretched from an area near the door and ran the length of the pool. Where it met the pool decking, there was a small picket fence gate with a latch. I unlipped your leash, and you and Piper ran up the ramp to the pool together. You were following Piper's lead. I unlatched the gate and walked over to an area where I generally stored anything needing to be kept dry. I made sure to remove my cell phone from my pocket and dug through the backpack for the knobby white retrieving bumper we had been working with at home.

I had been using the toy fairly sparingly. I only used it when we played together, then would store it up high on the bookshelves where you could easily see it (but not reach it). Every once in a while you would walk through the living room, pause to stare at it, and think on it for a few seconds. You knew right were it was kept. The end of it stuck out a few inches past the books it was sitting on top of.

Suzanne walked over to the long side of the pool and tossed Piper's toy in the water. Piper gleefully leaped into the pool with a splash, retrieved her toy, and swam to the ramp. The 4-foot wide exit ramp stretched over eight feet long, rising out of the water from the bottom of the 4-feet deep pool and attaching to the decking. This made a nice gentle slope dogs to get in and out the pool.

You cautiously stood at the top of the ramp and waiting for Piper to retrieve the toy for you. It was a pretty grand scheme you had going; or so you thought. Upon exiting the pool, you attempted a snatch and grab from her. But she wasn't going to let you have it. She effortlessly pushed by you, taking the toy back to Suzanne to throw again.

I played a short game of fetch with you across the deck. I tossed the bumper across the carpeted surface three or four times hoping to get you wound up. You were getting much better about letting go of the toy when you returned to me now, and each time I would quickly toss it again as a reward. But this time I had tossed it into the pool just past the end of the ramp. You were going to have to swim for it.

Puzzled about how to go about getting your bumper, you tiptoed down the gently sloping ramp and stretched with all your might trying to reach the toy floating just a few feet away. It took a few times or gradually moving the toy further away, but eventually your body began to float, and you responded by swimming.

You were swimming nearly vertical in the water, splashing wildly with your front paws. This was a tried and true puppy swim. The at it's earliest stages it was awkward and clumsily inefficient. You swam like this the first time you leaped into our pond, having no idea how deep it was. I thought for sure I was going to have to jump in a save you that time. It was shortly after that little stunt that I discovered you had never swam before.

After a few seconds of flailing in the water, something clicked and your body leveled out enough that you began to move forward. I stood on the deck, on the exit ramp, cheering you on. Suzanne was whooping and hollering, "good dog!"

You quickly gathered yourself and made a b-line toward the bumper that had now floated halfway across the pool. You swim wasn't the prettiest one I had seen, but you were figuring it out. And more importantly, you had just retrieved the bumper and had returned to the exit ramp.

Thanks to Mary's tropical paradise, you continued to swim from the ramp time and again. Each time you hit the water with more and more confidence. During one retrieve I had moved to the long side of the pool where Suzanne was working with Piper. You brought me the bumper, and without thinking, I tossed it right back in the pool. Without a single thought, you darted back around to the other side of the pool to head down the ramp. But you had gathered enough speed that you took the corner just a hair too sharp, and slid off the side of the ramp and right into the pool.

Suzanne and I starred at each other and began to laugh. No worse for the wear, you quickly recovered and headed out to the middle of the pool. I figured that after such a brave recovery, you might just be ready to try jumping off the side of the deck for the first time.

The deck around the pool was only about 10-inches from the surface of the water, but that was plenty of height for today. You carried your bumper, and we walked to the opposite end of the pool together. I utilized a park bench sitting on the pool deck to block your route to take the easy way out by going down the ramp.

I teased you by holding the bumper up above your head for you to try to grab and spun in a slow circle while letting you chase and catch it. Eventually I pitched the bumper in the water, just a few feet from the edge. Immediately you tried to make a break for the ramp, but the 'cheater's route' was blocked. You leaned over the edge and began to whine. You REALLY wanted that toy, and the usual route wasn't going to work this time.

I crouched down on my hands and knees, leaned over the edge of the pool right next to you and dangled my fingers in the water. You shifted your eyes back and forth from the bumper to my fingers; watching intently. I splashed water toward the little white toy as it began to float away and continued to encourage you. Your front feet were touching the water in the pool, and your hind end was boosted up in the air. Eventually a combination of gravity and heroics kicked in, and you slid like a seal, head first, into the pool.

Just about that time Mary

Too wet to hold my camera, I found a high ledge near the end of the pool to prop it on to shoot some video of your first water entries. Now that you knew that you could get in the water this way, we practiced this move many times on video. In a matter of short time you were retrieving the bumper from the pool from the dock side. Each time you plopped into the water, your water entry improved. And just as the batteries quick working in the camera, you were beginning to shove off with your hind legs and launch into the pool.

This was a momentous occasion, and now we could add "future DockDog" to your growing resume. I wondered if we would ever look back on this day and recall your first ever plops into the pool at Mary's place. I had really hoped that you found a home within our dock jumping community, so I could see you grow up. I wish that someday you soar high above the swimming pool to the sound of a cheering crowd. That would really be some story to tell. It could happen!

If there is one thing I have learned in the sport of DockDogs, it's that it doesn't matter who you are or what breeding you came from. Every dog has it's day. Someday I hoped you would get your chance to shine with the special people who made you part of their lives. What an adventure you would have!

We played fetch a few more time from the edge of the pool before calling it a day at Bow Wow. You had a successful day, and had improved by leaps and bounds. I made a mental note to bring you back for another swim in the Bow Wow Bahamas soon.

Before we left, Mary stopped by the pool to meet you. Convinced that we should keep you to be part of our family, she teased me about how much time I had spent working on training with you. I assured her that as lovable as you were, I was still searching for the perfect home for you. We were going to miss having you around, but I was determined to make this work out for your sake.

After I dried you off, we purchased a few pounds of the bulk organic dog treats that Mary sold in her store inside the facility. I needed to re-fill the cookie jar at home badly, and this way we could pick out a large variety of cookies to make the stash last a little longer.

I changed into my dry clothes, said our goodbyes, and loaded the dogs into their kennels in the back of the truck and headed for home. Keeping our tradition, we made a stop at Starbucks Coffee on the way home to warm up our insides with a couple of small mochas. We chatted about our swimming session as we drove home, and decided that you and Piper were a perfect match for this kind of play. Though there were a few times when you insisted on retrieving your bumper AND hers all in the same trip, the day was fairly relaxed.

By the time we got home it was late in the evening. You were still tired, and now hungry. I prepared all the food bowls and made you wait with the other dogs while I set them down. You were now able to sit and wait for your food, which meant you could now eat in the kitchen with everyone else.

You occasionally climbed up and curled up on the couch with me a few times throughout the evening. We play rounds of musical dogs as the night wore on. Mossy would lay by me for a few minutes, only to be bullied off the couch by her big brother Buddy. Henna stood with her chin on the cushion, waiting for the invite to come up for a cuddle. You would nearly jump into my arms when it was your turn, but quickly settle down and lay still for a good petting.

It was so nice that all the dogs were getting along fairly decently. My dogs were finally adjusting to the most rambunctious member of the house, and you were beginning to calm down and had stopped playing the part of the obnoxious puppy with no manners (most of the time anyway). But all in all, the improvements were beginning to stack up. You were going to be a wonderful dog for a lucky someone.