This time of year my yard is a sea of dandelions. I've taught Roper to eat them. Yes, they're edible. On sunny days when they open wide. I pick them and holding tightly to the stem, I use my thumb to flick the head off. The yellow bud flies through the air and doggo jumps to nab it. The first time his owner saw me do it she wasn't too thrilled.
"It's safe," I promised. "Google it."
Roper's Mom calls my yard a Golden Retriever yard. He can run run run. We spend hours playing frisbee with an Aerobie. It's a round disc with a wide hole in the middle. I toss it on its side so it rolls away. Roper chases it like it's purposely running away from him—every Retriever instinct in high-gear. This is only one of the things I love to do instead of writing, or cleaning, or doing paperwork of any sort.
The Aerobie isn't for dogs. If I look away for a moment he'll chomp on it and break its little bird bones and it won't roll so well after. Sometimes we use the heavy duty Nerf Dog Super Soaker. Golden's are easy to please doggos. All you have to do to make them happy is never look away and never stop playing with them. Whereas kids are just waiting for you to look away so they can get your scissors and scotch tape without any adult supervision.
When you look up, your sparest of spare rooms looks like this.
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