Playtime

Johnno caught a glimpse of Hamish in the corner of his eye and tried to move away, but once again was too slow. In rapid movements he was dragged to ground by the massive irish setter, thrilled to see his Master.
“Hamish, get off.” Johnno yelled, but the dog was set on licking him to death and scratching his rather voluminous stomach with affection.
“He has ripped my shirt.” Johnno complained to his partner, Caz. “I have only worn it twice and it is ruined.”
But Caz had little sympathy for him. Every day he would encourage Hamish to attack with friendly fire, lifting Hamish on to his hind legs, mirroring a ballroom dance pose or a wrestling move.
Now Johnno’s shirt was torn and would need to be put in the trash. He was devastated. He pulled Hamish by the ears and chastised him for his behaviour.
“You encourage him Johnno.” Insisted Caz, pulling Hamish away.
“What do you mean?” Johnno waned. “Are you saying this shirt, torn to tatters is my fault?”
“Yes. Stop tormenting Hamish. He gets too excited.”
Johnno released Hamish and immediately he went to the treats jar to give him some dog sticks.
“Now look what you are doing.” Moaned Caz. “You are making him confused.”
Johnno reflected for a moment while he fed the last of the treats to Hamish. Dogs don’t get confused. They act on their instincts.
He brushed Hamish aside as he walked into the living room. Hamish reacted, seeing it as play time again.
“Hamish, cut it out.” Johnno pleaded, as his forelegs mounted onto Johnno’s shoulders. “Down boy.”
“Now do you understand?” Caz asked.
Johnno conceded. He would pause on the playtime while they were inside. He couldn’t afford too many more shirts!
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