Birdie Dog

I've always been a bit of a golf course scavenger, picking up lost balls, abandoned tees and various other items, but last night was the first time I've brought something living home from my local links.

Birdie Dog. He showed up with the drink cart gal who had captured him running like a wild man on an adjacent roadway. I'm not exactly sure how she captured him, but I think a colorfully canopied golf cart in the middle of a major intersection might have been involved.

He seemed nice enough, knew how to sit, lay down, fetch balls...uh, fetch balls, did I mention fetching balls? And then the fireworks started and I knew how Mr. Birdie Dog a.k.a. Buddy had turned up in the middle of the street. Even after we medicated him (there's a vet in the house), he tried to tear out a few doors and a wall before he was placed in a small, plastic crate for the evening.

His owner waited until almost 5 p.m. to check animal control. He admittedly was hoping that someone would just keep him. Loser. Anyway, I delivered him to his owner only to discover that he lived at a house I might have hit a few balls at over the year. I didn't get a regular reward, but I did get a bag of Callaway balls. Not bad for a few doors.