Bad Ben

I happened to catch a picture of Ben smiling this morning, as we walked down on the greenbelt through the snow. He is such a smart dog, and is not hard to read. Taking a walk makes him happy, going to the mountains backpacking makes him really happy, as does returning home and running out to check things out in the backyard. Strangers make him growl, but only if they look at him or talk to him.

Toys make him happy, which have to be extra durable or he will destroy them in a few minutes. He loves toys with bells in them, and I often find the toy with a single hole in it and the bell pulled out.

Catching frisbees makes him happy, although he only rarely makes a good catch. He often jumps and tries to grab the frisbee with his feet as well as his mouth, all at once, which is not very effective at making a catch, but good to knock it to the ground.

I play a game with Ben and Maggie where I turn off all the lights in the house and open the back door, then run to a hiding place. They come running in and check upstairs and down for Dad. They usually find me within thirty seconds, even in the dark, which like to think is more from their good noses rather than my strong scent.
"You found me", "You found me good dogs" is what I say when they do. They bark and chew on each other, and jump up to me, and smile.

The only way I can really hide good is to run out the front door, then go around into the back after they are inside looking for me. I let them look for a minute or two and then yell 'find Dad' into the open back door. They come racing out and down the steps to find me crouched behind a tree in the yard: 'good one Dad, you tricked us Dad.' seems like what their thoughts are as they jump on me.

I am eccentric enough to not even worry about whether I am or not. Just happy, like Ben.