This is the kind of frisbee I've used for three dogs now. They're a little pricey, especially since I have to order them on the Internet and pay shipping; but it's the only kind I can throw. I got my first one for Mandy, who never showed much interest in chasing after an inanimate object; when Sadie came along, though, she found her true calling the day I dug out the old superdisc.
Notice the long leash; I couldn't turn Sadie loose for most of her life with me, not until the last few months. She would run away, paying no heed to my calling. I always figured she'd end up getting killed on the highway during one of her escapes; I never imagined her dying from a pork bone.
And now Iris chases the frisbee with as much passion as did Sadie. I'm pretty sure she never had any experience with one, though, before she came here. She was familiar with squeaky toys, and knew how to bite repeatedly in different spots until she found the squeak. She had obviously chased balls before, and even knew what the word "ball" meant.
But here's what Iris has done with the frisbee. Those are toothmarks, and there are even some actual holes where she's pierced through the soft plastic with her teeth. Although she brings it back to me after she's caught it, she feels she has to kill it before I take it. When I first got her, I tried giving her a regular cheap, hard frisbee, figuring she couldn't bite holes through it.
She broke it into jagged pieces, and I threw it away before she could hurt herself swallowing bits of it.
I've been working with her and the Superdisc, and she is getting much better. Hopefully this chewed-up one will be sufficient until I get her past the "wanting-to-kill-the-frisbee" stage.
In the last month or so, Iris has even started jumping high, trying to retrieve the thing in the air. She's getting pretty fancy!
My dog, Sadie, has far too much energy to have ended up in the home of a couple of people in their sixties. Unfortunately, I'm deeply attached to her, so I make do. I've never been able to turn her loose, because she's been off like a shot running around the neighborhood, once she's free. That would be OK in this country area, except my last dog died running across 224 highway. I don't think I could stand losing another dog that way.So Sadie has been turned loose each day for our walk in the pasture, then confined either to the house, or on a tie-out in the yard.Since we've moved back further from the road, though, I've been giving her a little more freedom: For instance, when I put her out to potty, I no longer hook the leash to her collar. I stand on the front porch and watch her, and she comes right back when she's done. When I take her to the tie-out, I've stopped hanging onto her collar for dear life because she's stopped her desperate runs for freedom.Yesterday, each time I went outside I took her along, sans leash. She did great.This morning she had a relapse. The minute I went outside with her, I could see she was in her "escape" mode. I no sooner got the words "Here, Sadie" out of my mouth than she was gone.I should have remembered to have a Frisbee session with her, first thing, because on the days we don't walk and give her a chance to run, she's a mess. She's passionate about her Frisbee, and I can wear the edge off her energy that way.All's well that ends well, and Sadie showed up back at home after about twenty minutes. I scolded her and she acted sufficiently contrite. I gave her five minutes to think about her sins and repent, then took her out for the Frisbee session she should have had earlier.
When we're done, I tell Sadie to take the Frisbee to the house, and she does so quite willingly.
I do believe Cliff has cleaned up the Gold Wing for a reason: It's perfect weather, and we'll ride today!
I'll throw in this picture of yesterday's sunrise at no extra cost. One can't get too many sunrises, you know.
