Labrador Retrievers were named for the Canadian province of Newfoundland and Labrador and for their amazing retrieving skills.
When traveling in Nova Scotia last August, so close to Newfoundland and Labrador, I wondered about that northern Atlantic Canadian province. Who lives there? Is it a travel destination? Should Judge Blah and I go to its largest city, Goose Bay?
Unsure of our next move, I asked several Nova Scotian locals, folks of Scotch, English and French roots, about some of Labrador’s attractions.
One chap, Charles was his name, an Englishman living in Digby, exclaimed,
Why, they invented tennis balls in Labrador!
My sister Augusta and her husband Dennis live up there. Dennis works in the local tennis ball factory. I believe he tests twenty balls a minute for bounce and resiliency. And those balls are tough. Bloated under the sea, lodged in rocky crags, stuck in woodpiles all over the province—tennis balls abound in Labrador.
They manufacture those balls up there for their darn dogs, he concluded quickly.
His ferry to St. John’s had arrived, so he hurried away.
I was left to continue my investigation.
Other folks around Nova Scotia corroborated Charles’ story, adding that in addition to those eking out a living in the tennis ball business, many yellow, brown, and black retriever dogs, lots of stinging flies,and moose live up there. The waters are frigid; the tundra stark; the dogs intense and single-minded; the balls tough.
I returned from that trip with a new respect for a breed of dog hailing from such a barren landscape where moose were road-kill.
And on the day I returned, I resumed a Labradorian tradition known as fetch with my Labrador, Dinah.
Far away from her frigid ancestral land, Dinah reinforces the notion that tennis balls trump all waterfowl. You may have seen photos of a three-ball mouth.
If given the opportunity, Dinah would retrieve a tennis ball until she dropped and died. No kidding.
Up and down our driveway, she speeds, delivering the thrown ball in utilitarian fashion, immediately turning back at full tilt, in anticipation of the next flying sphere.
If the Athenian phalanx of 431 BCE had been made up of Labrador Retrievers, it may have beaten the Spartans.
If only focus and execution like this could be mass –produced and part of my business, I could quit my job to write and read.
With Andreas away and Mr Crotchety in a sulk, you’ll just have to make do with me.
Cave canem(!)
If ever proof were needed – labrador’s not real. A mere black shadow. I’ve never been there, though, come to think of it, I’ve never been anywhere.
How do you cope with hyperactive people and dogs, teacher.
This is quite therapeutic:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/steve-jones/6583820/Yawning-is-part-of-what-makes-us-human.html
This particular dog has been more of a challenge than all of my students, ever, in total.
Leibnitz and Newton were cheats -
You don’t have to hold on to your seats!
Zeno’s arrow’s the one that I follow,
Not balls to a black hole or hollow.
And Peano can’t even count beats!
If you think labs can be trying, get a scotty. I love my compadre Gus, but he is forever keeping me on my toes.
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