Today I took my dog swimming. I take him swimming because I think it’s hilarious, not because he enjoys it. He doesn’t. He won’t even get into the water without some kind of incentive. Luckily, there are alway a flock or two of ducks or geese on the canal near our house, and he can’t resist herding ducks. Corgis are herding dogs, and he’ll herd anything he can find, even if they’re not actually on land.
It’s always amusing when the only dogs at the dog park are herders. Basically they run around each other in circles while we bipeds try to get them to play fetch.
In between herding, he hung out on the teeny, tiny, rocky beach with me.
And ate what I can only assume was duck shit off of a rock. Awesome.
Neville’s 4-inch long legs aren’t exactly built for swimming, and his muscular little body is hard to keep afloat, so I got him a life jacket hoping that it would make things easier. I don’t think it worked.
Also, he really hates it. He won’t even walk around while he has it on.
It’s hard to tell, because Corgis are perpetually smiling, but he was pretty mad at me by the time we got done.
Caulk and Crinolines 