|HERE'S MY OLD FRIEND MAJOR.|
AT THE DOG PARK, there's an old golden retriever named Major. My dog Lady is probably the second most liked dog at the park, and Major is special for many reasons. I was walking into the park with a friend when we saw Major and I told him about another day when I saw Major. The old, overweight dog looked up, saw me, perked up and rushed/hobbled over to say hi.
As I told the story, Major saw me, perked up and hurried/shambled over to say hello. My human friend laughed as my furry friend greeted me again.
Major has hydraulics in one rear leg and naturally struggles to get around. But he loves tennis balls and other toys, and he'll aggressively run after them. He overcomes his disability and usually comes back with the ball, no matter the age, speed or physical condition of the competition. One day, I was watching; someone threw a ball, and a half-dozen young dogs took off after it, with Major trailing behind.
The problem was that there were several tennis balls in that area. There was a scrum for about 10 seconds, and Major came out with what looked like a wide grin. He'd carried two balls on many occasions, but this time he had three balls in his mouth. The other dogs followed him, trying to get at the balls, and he dropped one of his balls. He shouldered another dog aside, grabbed the ball and headed back to us.
The younger dogs finally left him alone. He couldn't keep the third ball in his mouth, so he dropped it and nudged it along with his nose for the last 30 feet or so. When he got back to his owner's chair, he dropped all of the balls and plopped down in triumph.
Someone called it another major victory — might have been me — and the lazy, three-ball day proceeded.
Note: I haven't seen Ed or Major in a few years, and I assume Major's no longer with us. Hey, he was old when I first met him.
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