Send in the Clowns

I have said many times that my "girls" help me laugh out loud at least once a day.  The thing is, labs are clowns.  Comedians.  More in a Lucille Ball eating chocolates at the candy factory than a stand-up Jay Leno sort of way.  Lab comedy is pure slap-stick.  Unintentional.  It stems, I think, from their love of life.   They simply are funny.  From falling over accidently to their facial expressions.  When God made labs it was for the purpose of delightful comedy.

The best thing is when I am laughing, they are able to laugh at themselves.  They look around, realize I am chuckling at them, and might even try to repeat whatever it is I thought was funny.  Oh, if you thought standing idle watching the treat soar over my head was funny, wait till you see this one!

One of my all time Murphy stories is from her puppyhood.  When she was young, newly released for the run-of-the-house while I was at work, I commuted to New York City.  I usually got home to two dogs standing by the front door, waiting for play time.  One day, I came home, they were both by the door, but Murph's ears were pinned back and she was shaking.  Uh-oh, I thought, something is wrong.  I searched the main floor, then downstairs, and finally, climbed the stairs, noticing by then the lab puppy was no where to be found.  My whole upstairs, which was three bedrooms and two bathrooms, was covered in toilet paper.  It looked like the whole cheerleading squad from Friday Night Lights had been there!  I imagined her glee as she grabbed the toilet paper and ran through every room.  I sat down with her and laughed and laughed.  

We've shared many times like that.  And now here is Sage, clown number two.  She is the one coming out of the tiny car, oversized shoes, looking slightly bewildered.  And you can only imagine the two of them together!  Clowns.  

Murphy's day.