Toby, my 47kg (103lb) Rhodesian Ridgeback, loves to catch flies. Maybe they bother him so much that he tries to rid his space of the winged biting machines. Trying to catch them entertains him for minutes on end. He’ll watch a fly on his paw like a lion stalks a gazelle. A frozen stare. And then he pounces. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes not.
I don’t much like flies either. My friend Petal, who visited the USA this year, brought me back two fly swatters. Gold! I sit out early morning with Toby, with my 'McDonald’s hot' coffee on the veranda, swatting flies while Toby tries to catch them. He even goes so far to get his big furry butt up and follow them around the veranda. An effort that’s not usually rewarded.
My daughter once had a Rottweiler who chased his own shadow. Funny as hell to watch! I sometimes wish Toby would switch from flies to shadows, but I suppose the pair of us - me with my natty housedress, Toby, gorgeous as usual - out on the veranda hunting flies are funny enough!
Why do you have the camera out?
Toby decides to relax.
He tried and missed.
Toby watches the fly get away.
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