Farley here,
Whew . . . It’s been a long doggy week.
We drove from Ontario to British Columbia. My humans had no room in the car for my crate so I had to sleep in the closet.
Just to be clear, they didn’t make me, but I like to hide my head when I’m sleeping and the only thing I could find was this ironing board.
Really, the things I put up with.
Woof woof.
Farley here,
I was born in the fall of 2008. In July of 2009, I moved on Mattina. She’s a catamaran and is great for dogs. The only life I remember is on my sailboat. I’m a cruising dog. I love running free on the beach. I get to chase crabs.
I think I’m a key part of our pack, but how come I don’t get a say in key decisions! Mathew and Kristina just laid a whopper on me.
They sold Mattina. How could they without asking me? You heard me right. They sold my sailboat.
“Why?” I bark at Kristina.
“Don’t us that tone with me,” she says.
I sit in my most handsome way, roll my eyes up at her, and lay my head on her lap. “But why?” I whine while my tail swishes back and forth on the floor. “I’m sad.”
“Don’t you remember living in the mountains?” she asks.
“Sort of,” I say in my low growl. I’m very suspicious of this.
“Don’t you remember Joe?”
My ears perk up and I peak around at the scene on her laptop. There he is. I remember him. I tilt my head to Kristina.
She smiles. “I see you do. There are lots of dogs and lots of off leash time. You’ll be fine.”
And I will be.
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
Culture shock. That’s what I have. I spend months in the Bahamas off leash, running around, digging holes in the sand, and swimming off the beach.
We get to Florida, and I have to wear a leash. I think that’s a bit humiliating. I don’t run away – okay sometimes I might get distracted and chase a squirrel, but I stay in sight.
This is me looking tough. I’m trying to tell Kristina with eye contact alone that I don’t need a leash.
Does she listen?
Nope.
On goes the leash. I just don’t understand this leash law deal. I’m a good dog.
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
I don’t know why humans get so excited about sailing in 15 knots on a beam reach. So the boat is going 8.5 knots over ground. Why is everyone so happy?
Humans look like this when sailing. . .
Me – I’d rather be napping.
Woof Woof
Keeping fit is a challenge, and sometimes nature dictates the schedule. While living in the islands, the moon, tide and weather all tell me when and how I can exercise.
On a full moon, with a high tide, the beach will be soft and make running, let’s say, unpleasant. The sand forces ankles and knees into odd angles.
With no moon and high tide, the beach might be in better condition, so it’s worth a try.
No moon, low tide is the best time to run. The tide is out, the beach is wide and hard. Running barefoot is fantastic.
If I can’t run, I like to swim laps.
Sunny days are best. I like to see what’s in the water around me and cloudy days make that difficult. I’ll admit I might be a little afraid of sharks. I figure if they can see me, they won’t be interested in me. If the water is dark or murky, a shark might mistake me for lunch. Wind and current also affect when I can swim. Too much of either, and it’s not longer fun.
If I can’t swim laps, I like to kayak.
Wind and current dictate when and where I can go. The height of the tide doesn’t really matter, and I don’t usually kayak at night (although I have and a full moon makes this fun), so the moon doesn’t often come into play.
If I can’t kayak, then I like to do beach yoga.
High tide makes the beach wet, so not a good time. Too much sun and it’s too hot. Clouds are good for this activity.
If I can’t do any of these, I sulk. Just kidding. I can always read, write, blog, walk the dog, or hang with friends. The only activity Farley, my soft-coated wheaten terrier, can’t do with me is swim laps. He does an awesome downward dog.
Happy New Year 🙂
Thanks for reading . . .
. . . From Kristina, Mathew and Woof Woof from Farley
Who says you can’t have a Christmas tree on a sailboat?
Farley Here,
“What the barking blazes is that thing swimming in front of Mattina?” I bark
Kristina and Matt come to the bow. They’re all calm, like a monster isn’t swimming so close to us.
“Go away I,” I bark. “Or else.” Or else what, I have no idea.
Do you see how close it came to our boat?
I can’t believe the beast doesn’t listen to me. So you know what it does next?
It swims right underneath me. I go crazy jumping up and down barking at it. Mr. Dolphin turns on his side and looks up at me. I think he’s smiling at me. An evil smile, mind you. I bounce, and I bark, doing my best to scare it away. I am the protector of this pack, and I take my job seriously.
Kristina and Matt hide behind me. They know they need me to take care of them. And I do. Ten long minutes later, the dolphin finally understands he’s not welcome and he swims away.
I don’t he’ll come back anytime soon. Phew. I’m glad that’s over and I can go back to napping on my trampoline.
Woof Woof.
Farley here.
I’m in the Bahamas and this is how I feel:
Woof Woof. Yipeeeee! Woof Woof
Farley here.
So I’m sailing again. What do I do underway? Well, unless there are dolphins swimming by, I get bored.
And when I’m bored, I get crazy.
I go to the forward guest cabin and I roll right . . .
And then I roll left.
And lastly, I play with my squeaky toy.
I mean what else does a dog do when sailing. Matt and Kristina won’t let me steer, at least not all the time.
It’s a talent being able to entertain yourself.
Woof Woof
Farley here.
Do any of you other canines suffer from allergies? I do, and they drives me crazy.
One thought is wheat, another is certain types of grass, but my latest theory is turkey. I’ve got American and Canadian humans as part of my extended pack, so on Sunday we celebrated AmeriCanadian Thanks Giving. We do this every year. Of course, I got turkey left overs. Yum Yum and then itch itch.
My next question is how many times can a dog wake a human without them getting annoyed?
Apparently a lot, if the human is Kristina.
I wake her by tapping my nails on the floor. I do this until she gets out of bed and helps me out.
Sometimes she’s a little slow when she’s sleepy, and it took her until the fourth time I woke her to figure out I was itchy and needed a Benadryl.
Now, I’m a floor dog. I don’t sleep on furniture or in the bed, but I think Kristina was so tired and wanted to lie down, that she made me get in the bed. Yup, made me. She lifted me up and then rubbed my belly until I settled down and could sleep. This is me lying on her pillow!
Really, do I have her trained or what?
Woof Woof.
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