Swim, Swam, Swum

My little dog, she likes the water. Except when you put her in a tub, hold her in place and make her tread. I know, it's not nice, but it's not water torture for bad behaviour. She is recovering from a luxated patella surgery, over 2 months in, and the vet suggested swimming as a means of rehab, building back the muscle in her somewhat atrophied rear left leg (the colourful one).

I can attest that it is working, as I can see much improvement in her surgically altered leg. She is a muscley little creature anyway, so it's great to see the progress, as the leg was looking quite out of place on her pumped up little body.

In her earlier years, she wasn't one for swimming. Never showed any interest in the water, and especially loathed bath time, giving me that "look" when ever the deed was required. We bring the dogs camping and cabining with us in the summer, up to the land-o-lakes: semi-northern Ontario. Needless to say, avoiding water is not an option up there, especially when the temperature reaches 34 celcius in the shade, and your only protection from the sun is a bit of leaking tent fabric that doesn't sheild you from the bugs, and just barely deflects the sweltering suns rays.

So, on one of those days was her first time, and she screamed. We were at an out-of-the-way shallow lake (Coe-Island Lake, Bancroft, ON), with a nice easy, gradual slope, and we thought this would be perfect for a first time swimmer. Not a chance, she wanted to splash on shore, diddle around, do her own thing, but not involve her body touching water in any way, shape or form.

We tried to entice her in, we'd wade out a bit, and call her, HA, not a chance. We held her near shore for a bit, so she could get her paddling down pat. Then hubby carried her out a little ways and plopped her in. Right back to shore, no hesitation. We called her back, not a chance in hell. Hubby, once again, scooped her up and plopped her back in a shallow section. Right back to shore, no questions asked. We decided, perhaps we could coax her if we weren't so close. Out further we went and called her, very enticingly I might add. Oh did she scream, screamed with her mouth wide open, screamed like someone was killing her, screamed like when she watches the other JRTs race and she wants to chace the knot halfway through the rope instead of the tail tied to the end like she's suppose to be focusing on.

Suffice to say, that technique did not work either. We came back to shore and threw a stick for her own entertainment purposes, and the lightbulb over the head thing happened. Idiots, she's crazy about moving objects, throw the stick in the water and she'll chace it. Tadaa, that worked, and the rest is history.

I now have a smooth coated, tri-colour Jack Retrieving Terrier. Her form in the water is unparalled, and her speed, unmatched. She will retrieve any object you throw out there and bring it back with pleasure for you to throw again. She jumps in puddles and mud holes now just for the heck of it, and will swim and swim, so much that I know have to stick with her when I send her in the water because she'll take off. This is much to my displeasure, as I'm not a fan of swimming. I'll do it, yes, but not because you've thrown something for me to retrieve. She enjoys water retrieving so much that we can't even take her fishing anymore because she assumes that the large-mouth bass lure you've just cast out (hoping for the big one) is for her to fetch and bring back ... scream, oh does she scream.

So why, oh why does she harbour so much anger and resentment for the "tub". Perhaps its the fact that there is nothing to chase, or its because she has to stay in one spot and can never reach the edge - that would piss me off too. If it was bigger, I would make it entertaining for her, throw her ball, a kong, a stick or maybe a T-bone. Then she wouldn't have evil thoughts about me during her rehab sessions, I swear she's given me the finger every single time. Little bugger.