Peas in a pod

This is a true story of two lovable, big-hearted, four-legged masses of excess hair, Cheyenne and Isaac. Two Labs who inexplicably adore each other in ways we are amused and touched by, as when you see an elderly couple doing something you think is precious, like eating ice cream cones and holding hands. They have a lot in common, those two. They have bottomless stomachs, for one. They also share Obsessive Compulsive Disorder when it comes to tennis balls or any object that can be tossed and caught. When sleeping, they shake the walls with their snoring.

Although I've known them both all their lives, until this morning, I did not realize how much they had in common. Reading called me from the Ranch to tell me that when her father-in-law (so to speak) took Isaac with him out into the cow pasture to investigate a hog, the boy was all too willing and happy to trot alongside in this male-to-male companionship. That me-and-you, just-us-guys buddy system went out the door when her father-in-low shot the hog, however. At the sound of the gun, the big brave boy ran in the other direction all the way to the pasture gate in a flash of yellow blur, tail safely tucked between his legs.

Five minutes after my friend called to share that laugh, I was dialing her number back to tell her about my brave girl. Seems that while I went into the house for a glass of water, Cheyenne sat by the door waiting for me rather than retrieving the ball I had just tossed into the pool. When I returned, she went to the edge of the pool ready to dive in but came to an abrupt halt when she saw that a big bug was sitting on top of her ball. Her hackles up, she paced back and forth along the edge, stopped, extended her head towards the ball but with front legs locked in place, and looked at me with a Please do something to correct this frightening atrocity look on her face. More pacing, more whining. The ball is currently floating un-retrieved in the pool.

Sadly, she is also terrified of birds.

People often refer to Labradors in general as Bird Dogs or Gun Dogs, implying a certain outdoorsy toughness. The thing I learned about Cheyenne and Isaac today is that no one will ever refer to either of them that way, at least not with an ounce of seriousness.