3 Orange Balls.

This is the year that Cash, the Wonder Lab, celebrated his third year of life. Throughout these three years it has been visual reminders like this:
...that has kept me from selling him to the lowest bidder in moments like this:
Had I read all the books that I read about raising Chocolate Labs prior to getting him, there's a 92% chance I would have gotten a hermit crab instead. Who knew that male Chocolate Labs tend to have the most energy of all the Labrador Retrievers in the land? "They" say that age three is when male Chocolates calm down and are usually okay to be left uncrated for long periods of time. My shoes and throw pillows would disagree with them.

He really is the greatest dog in the world though, and he has taught me so much about discipline, patience, and loyalty. As in, I need to exhibit more of all three of those traits. He is quite loyal to me, but sometimes I wonder if it's because he sees me as his source for three meals a day and the essential ingredient for seemingly never ending games of fetch. 2011 though was the year that he abandoned his first love, the tennis ball, for a new and improved model:

See that poor, dejected tennis ball off to his right? Once he was introduced to the greatness that is the orange Chuck-It ball, tennis balls were so last season. He "acquired" his first orange ball at the dog park. He's pretty much a thief. Thank goodness the original owners are friends and they were kind enough to let him have it. I can't say that I blame them though since it was covered in dog slobber and prying it out of his mouth would have been akin to prying it from a piranha. He did not put this ball down for days. Literally. I had to trick him at bedtime to get it away from him. [No comments about who is the alpha in our master/canine relationship, please.] Speaking of bedtime, they also function as a breadcrumb trail of sorts just in case he forgets his way:
The way the other two made their way into his life was at Thanksgiving when I had all sorts of baking to do. I needed him to be entertained and distracted because no one likes it when dogs serve as taste-testers for baked goods. Bleh.

Sometimes I feel guilty that he does not spend his days duck-hunting or swimming and all of the other things that his breed was bred to do. [Remind me to one day tell you all about the time he killed my mom's neighbor's chicken. It was quite possibly his proudest moment.] But as far as he's concerned, he's living his purpose each and every day. Sure, it's a simple purpose: chasing orange balls and carrying them around wherever he goes, but he does it with the energy and devotion of a Lab who spends hours on end hunting and swimming. Hmmm...that's one more thing that he has brought to my attention that I need to improve upon: living out my purpose with energy and devotion even if it's not the most "glamorous" purpose out there. However, if I forget my own agenda, then my purpose does contribute to something grand. And that is a good thing.

“A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours. Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things-a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.” -John Grogan