So, I’ve spent the last few days pondering a very specific and somewhat ridiculous, yet deeply fascinating observation about Barnaby. You know how I always talk about his ability to find anything that falls off a table? It isn’t just luck; it’s a talent. This weekend, however, felt like he took his craft to an entirely new level of professionalism.
While we were having tea and biscuits in the garden on Saturday morning, I managed to drop a tiny crumb of a digestive biscuit. Barnaby didn’t just look at it—he performed what I can only describe as a full-scale tactical manoeuvre. He didn’t even wait for me to finish my sentence; he was already calculating the trajectory and time of fall. It’s quite a feat, really. Honestly, told him once that if he would just sit still and behave like a collie, but some things simply cannot be crossed.
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The Art of the Lunge
I sat down to write this blog post today on Monday evening, and I realized that his ability to find crumbs is actually an early warning system. If something falls, he’s there in 0.5 seconds. He’s basically my own personal ‘crumb-scout’. If I drop a piece of toast, he’s ready. It’s quite funny how some dogs just have this internalised instinct for snacks. And yet, he’s still trying to figure out how the garden gate is even possible to open. He doesn’t understand the concept of ‘no’, but he certainly understands the concept of ‘treato’.
Why I Love It
Feeling a bit weary from the work week and it’s finally the weekend at last, but having someone who is constantly waiting for me to drop something—literally and metaphor.ically—is oddly comforting. He’s not really a ‘working dog’, he’s more just a boyfriend-shaped object that might occasionally bark at a breeze. It really does ground me when I was feeling a noticeble bit of stress from the project I’m working on. He’s not very good at it, but he’s incredibly sweet.
Things to keep in mind
If you want to find your best friend, think about the puppy eyes. They really work. If you want a search and rescue dog, he is absolutely useless for that; he’d probably just find me first and then ask for a good old fashioned treat.
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