Muddy buddy.

We used to let Tralfaz run in the yard off leash because he was very independent but (mostly) good about knowing the boundaries. We used to let Nipper do the same, but just in the backyard, where he too was able to get an idea about how far was too far. 

Izzy? Well, I was playing fetch with him yesterday -- something I've hoped to teach him to help burn off the zoomies -- and he was doing great. Until he ignored the world's greatest stick on the fourth throw and bolted into the weeds. 

Oh, he didn't get far. He didn't have to. The area is a flood basin, and within fifteen feet of our property it turns into that kind of thick, black mud that only golden retrievers and slow children seem to like. 

Goldens are duck retrievers by breed, so mud is just mother's milk to them. I should have known something like this might happen, even though Nipper was the same kind of dog and never launched himself into mud that way. 

Not Izzy -- my hands were too busy to 
get any pictures -- let's just say this is
a fair representation of the breed in action.

Fortunately I was able to stop him before he got any deeper into the quicksand, but as it was, his legs, butt, chest, and undercoat were pretty filthy. It's times like these that having a bathtub downstairs is a major blessing. 

My wife had jinxed us a little by saying just that afternoon what a good boy Izzy is, maybe the best behaved of the ones we've had to date. He's a cuddlemuffin, which is helpful. But he is a retriever of waterfowl at heart, and he's never going to scared of a little muck. 

So, I don't blame him, and I just need to be more aware of breed behaviors. All dog owners should, inasmuch as their dogs' breeds can be determined. Fazzy was a farm dog, so either I could build him a wagon to pull as I went to check the back forty (first would have to buy a back forty), or I could let him patrol the perimeter, but one way or another he was set on doing farm dog stuff. Greyhounds gotta run, corgis gotta herd, rat terriers gotta kill rats, pitbulls gotta bait bulls, and Chihuahuas gotta... be sacrificed to pagan gods? 

Well, let's just say that while a dog doesn't have to do what he was bred to do, we ought to bear in mind what he thinks he's supposed to do, and where necessary find fun murder-free activities to fulfill his mission. Since I am no duck hunter, I'll have to start Izzy on competitive fetch or something. In large, dry, fenced-off areas, for sure.