Dog Safety

Farley here.

You may think I look like I’m trying to hide, but what I’m trying to do is give my humans a message.

Usually if I look my cutest they give me what I want.

We’re underway and it’s windy. Twenty-five knots on the nose windy. Out comes my tether, and I know it’s about to get worse.

So here I am, not hiding, but looking cute.

Farley Tethered

Now, as I lay here with my head tucked under the step, my humans discuss the situation.

First, they decide to put a reef in the main. That helps a bit, and the boat settles down.

Then my ears perk up. I hear something good.

“We could turn around,” Kristina suggests.

“Hmmm,” Mathew responds.

Not the answer I’m looking for.

“You could spend the afternoon windsurfing,” Kristina says.

Now the grin on Mathew’s face tells me he likes the idea.

Kristina sweetens the deal. “I’ll make you lunch while you get your gear ready.”

And just like that, my humans tack, turn the sailboat north, and head to a lovely, lovely calm anchorage.

See, being cute does get a dog what he wants.

I hope all you dogs and cats out there had a good Christmas.

Woof Woof

Farley here.

I fell in the ocean, right off the back of the boat! How humiliating.

My human friend, Debi, drove her dinghy to the back of our boat to pick me up for yoga. I should have known something weird was going on when Kristina didn’t put my harness on me. You can see it in the photo below. She makes me wear it, so IF I fall overboard, she can easily pick me up.

Well, I guess she forgot to put it one me.

This is the harness I should have been wearing!

Debi arrives and I get a bit excited.

“Hello,” I bark.

Debi drives close to the back of the boat and ties up. Kristina is ready with her yoga gear.

“Not today,” Kristina says. “There are wild pigs on the beach. You have to stay on board.”

I whip my head around to face Debi and she confirms the bad news. I turn too quickly and start to fall.

“Oh Oh,” I bark, but no one grabs me.

My paws slip off the first step.

“Help me,” I bark.”

I’m now on the second step and the third is not far away. Before I can let out my third bark, I’m in the water.

I know I can’t get on the back step by myself so I head to shore. Lucky for me, I’m pretty slow at the dog paddle and don’t get far.

Debi pushes off the stern and drives beside me. I’m a smart dog and turn to face her.

No here comes the problem. I’m not wearing my harness. The dingy tubes are two feet out of the water, and Debi has nothing to grab on to. She reaches under my armpits and struggles me aboard.

She’s soaked, I’m soaked, but at least I’m aboard.

Woof Woof.

Thanks for reading . . .