Taking tiny chumley for a swim is something I would like to do with him before he gets too old and bony and easily chilled for that sort of thing. I'd love to see him paddle around like a sentient meatloaf, his body bobbing gently as his four little legs take turns paddling him around and around and around. His head, I imagine, would be held just high enough out of water to act as his visual rudder, being the first to point in the direction he would like to go, and patiently putting up with the waves lapping at his face while it waits for the rest of his body to float in line.
Swimming was the furthest thing from my mind when the little kielbasa and I ventured out into our backyard yesterday afternoon. Short changed of a full lunchy lunch training experience because I was consumed with makey, Baxter took full advantage of my guilt and merrily bolted off, sniffing out every nook and cranny of his yard before deciding to get down to the serious business of digging. And digging he did, for minutes on end while I said hello and chatted with the little misses' mom by the fence. By the time she and I were done, every inch of tiny chumley was happily covered in dirt.
I picked up Baxter and took him over to our latest lazy iteration on a paw washing station, our giant almost chumley sized salvaged-metal-fire-pit-bowl-turned-extremely-ginormous birdbath, left on the ground while it awaits a thrift store score base of some sort. Recent rains had filled the bath to the brim, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by my little friend as I started to lower him into it.
I had expected a bit of random rebellious wiener wiggle, but surprisingly, as his body got closer and closer to the water, his little legs started to move in slow but regular fashion.
Right front paw out and under, left front paw out and under, right back paw out and under, left back paw out and under. Right front paw out and under, left front paw out and -
Did he just...was he doing a pre-paddle? I had seen a video of Baxter's friend Molly do it, but Baxter as far as I knew has never even been for a swim.
I pulled him back up and started lowering him again, even more slowly this time with chest and body supported and legs free. My eyes were fixed on him. Baxter's eyes were fixed on the water.
Right front paw out and under, left front paw out and under, right back paw out and under, left back paw out and under.
It would turn out that the water in the birdbath still wasn't deep enough for Baxter to even float, but I love how his little swimmy instincts seemingly kicked in. Tired from all the digging and paws freshly washed, we returned to our sunny spots in my studio, both of us dreaming of the swims yet to come. :)