(no subject)
Playing in the snow hadn't been appealing a few days ago, but as time ticked on, Logan's brush with an icy grave had faded from his thoughts and he was amusing himself in the only way he could now that surfing was off limits.
You see Linus, for all he was a very good and quite a bright dog, didn't really understand the concept of snowballs. In particular, he didn't seem to understand the fact that they came from snow and would inevitably, without fail, return to being snow once they had been thrown. Nevermind the fact that he watched his master create the tempting white balls from the very snow his paws continued to sink into, his head tilted as he watched the powdery fluff become something solid. No, apparently it was simply too hard a concept for the animal to grasp. So every time, again without fail, Logan would make a snowball, command Linus to sit, and then throw it as far as he could. The dog would case after it, as dogs often did, and the snowball, being what it was, would explode into a fine powder.
Now you would think that the dog would simply return, disappointed to have missed it. But no, Linus was determined to fetch that damn ball no matter what, and he yipped as he began to dig, searching for a ball that no longer existed until Logan made a new one and called him back over. It was a game that could go on for hours, neither dog nor boy tiring of the repetitive action or the mad dash. ...At least until Logan found something a little more entertaining to do anyway.
Packing another ball of snow, Logan threw the next one low, laughing as Linus caught it. Or, rather, snapped his jaws at it, only to be rewarded with a muzzle covered in snow.
Wandering over, Logan crouched down and dusted the animal off, unaware of the fact that someone had been watching him and was now heading over to say hello.
(Open to all. Very good time to meet him.)
You see Linus, for all he was a very good and quite a bright dog, didn't really understand the concept of snowballs. In particular, he didn't seem to understand the fact that they came from snow and would inevitably, without fail, return to being snow once they had been thrown. Nevermind the fact that he watched his master create the tempting white balls from the very snow his paws continued to sink into, his head tilted as he watched the powdery fluff become something solid. No, apparently it was simply too hard a concept for the animal to grasp. So every time, again without fail, Logan would make a snowball, command Linus to sit, and then throw it as far as he could. The dog would case after it, as dogs often did, and the snowball, being what it was, would explode into a fine powder.
Now you would think that the dog would simply return, disappointed to have missed it. But no, Linus was determined to fetch that damn ball no matter what, and he yipped as he began to dig, searching for a ball that no longer existed until Logan made a new one and called him back over. It was a game that could go on for hours, neither dog nor boy tiring of the repetitive action or the mad dash. ...At least until Logan found something a little more entertaining to do anyway.
Packing another ball of snow, Logan threw the next one low, laughing as Linus caught it. Or, rather, snapped his jaws at it, only to be rewarded with a muzzle covered in snow.
Wandering over, Logan crouched down and dusted the animal off, unaware of the fact that someone had been watching him and was now heading over to say hello.
(Open to all. Very good time to meet him.)