Welcome to the Jersey shore, Strudwick. You’ve made quite an impression.
Technically this is not Strud’s first time in New Jersey. He spent his first few months of puppyhood with us in our home here. It took a couple of summers, but he (mostly) got used to it.
This summer, we are in a rental as our house is having some work done on it and that, my friends, has made all the difference. Strud doesn’t do well in new environments. I think he gets stressed. And then he stresses the rest of us.
We rented this house because it has a fenced-in backyard that we thought would be perfect for the dogs. It’s on the water but the water is very far below the yard – I knew even Strud would be too scared to jump for it.
When we arrived two weeks ago, Doug had to immediately leave with Yates for a summer camp orientation. Yardley, Thatcher, and the dogs stayed with me. Soon after, our realtor Bonnie came by to show me a few things about the house. There was a lot to learn.
First of all, there is a duck (below, left) hiding in the backyard daisies and it’s formed a nest with eight eggs on which she sits. Second, there is a turtle (below, right) who lives in the pool and lays eggs there, who uses two small bricks placed on the pool steps to exit the pool, which we should not move.
As she is telling me this, Strud and Thunder are running around the backyard and are in seventh heaven. My mind starts racing about the wildlife: Duck eggs? A momma duck? A slow-moving turtle living in the pool? There is zero chance Strudwick will let any of these things remain undisturbed.
I see him eating unknown items hidden amongst the stone-covered yard and I decide not to worry about it for now because Bonnie is telling me something important about the boat lift – an automated short dock that lowers one’s boat into the water from the backyard. The lift is slightly off and one must jiggle the switch to steady it if the lift begins to tip as the boat goes in or the boat may crash.
Wait, what? Where’s Doug?
We just bought a small fishing boat for the kids so I need to pay attention to this information, but I am worried about the duck and the duck eggs and the turtle and the turtle eggs and whatever Strud is eating in those stones. For some reason, we also had near-hurricane force winds blowing that day and it added an element of excitement and danger to the whole thing. White caps covered the water and my hair was standing on its ends and whipping into my eyes as I tried to take in what seemed like life and death information about the boat lift.
As Bonnie demonstrated the lift and the necessary jiggling, Strudwick came over and got very interested in this contraption. Sure enough, as the lift lowered into the water, he jumped for it! Onto the lift, and then into the water. It was rough out there, but Strud – a lab, after all – had no fear of the large waves or icy temperatures, at least not at first. He began doggy paddling away at an impressive speed.
Bonnie, unaccustomed to the mayhem that surrounds Strud, ran down the ramp onto the now partially-submerged lift herself in her nice summer pants, alarmed over Strudwick’s departure into the dancing waves. I gotta admit, I was not worried. I knew he’d be back and have come to trust that panic over Strud is generally unnecessary. Somehow he figures things out and then the job is to clean up the damage.
Sure enough, he eventually turned around and came back. He was trying to get himself back on the lift, but he couldn’t because it required too much forearm strength and he was too submerged. Bonnie tried a trick she had used with her dogs to get them out of the water – get their front paws on the lift, then push their shoulder blades down toward the wood to raise the hind quarters. But it didn’t work and Strud didn’t much appreciate it because he immediately swam away while no doubt thinking, These people are trying to drown me.
We called his name over and over with no luck, and I finally ran inside to get a high-value treat (a bully stick) that might motivate him to swim back. This is when Yardley and Thatcher came outside – Yards in her bathing suit, as she was prepared to jump in the water and save Strud (!), and Thatcher ready to help in whatever way we needed him.
By this point, Strud had found a buoy in the water and grabbed onto it with his mouth while he paddled in place. The thought occurred to me, Wait, is Strud smart?
Finally, Thatcher saw an area nearby between our property and the neighbor’s where he could stand on shore and try to lure Strud over with the treat. Sure enough, it worked. Strud released the buoy, swam over, got out of the water onto the marshy grass with Thatcher, and did an enormous shake of his wet and dirty fur all over Thatcher who was … not thrilled.
Bonnie (below with Strud), meanwhile, was soaked up to her thighs now from being half-submerged on the lift that we finally raised back up to level.
If you know Strudwick, you know the story does not end there. Check back next week for part II of Strud’s Summer Saga.
Keep up to date on Strudwick’s latest shenanigans by subscribing to the American News Minute, Megyn’s free weekly email that delivers all the news you need straight to your inbox every Friday. Sign up by entering your email below!