Over the years, I’ve heard trainers explain many different ways of teaching a dog to fetch a ball. Of all the ways I’ve heard, though, my favorite method was to use a long lead and a bag of Cheetos.  According to the trainer who described this to me, once the dog is on the long-lead, you hold the Cheeto in one hand, put the dog in a sit-stay, throw a ball a short distance away, and when the dog brings the ball back to you, you give her the Cheeto.  What the trainer never told us was how to turn the dog’s attention from the Cheeto in our hands to the ball. None of our Aussies understood that a ball is supposed to be better than a Cheeto. We’d get all set up, throw the ball, and whoever was on the end of the long lead would just sit, staring at the Cheeto for as long as we held it. 

Thankfully, there’s something about Aussies that makes learning fetch ~ regardless of what they’re bringing back ~ a really easy task, if, that is, they actually want to play with whatever you’re throwing.  

Take Hannah, a beautiful red-tri little girl. Hannah was obsessed with tennis balls. We could throw a ball for her for what seemed like hours at a time.  We’d throw the ball, she’d run to get it, bring it back, drop it at our feet, and just stare at us. Her ears would be perked, her front knees bent just a bit, one paw raised, and she’d be quivering. Then we’d throw the ball again, and she’d run. She’d do this in the sun and heat, in the rain and fog, in sleet, hail and snow. And if we actually stopped throwing the ball for her to fetch, she’d walk around with it in her mouth, dropping it at our feet if we stopped moving. 

Suryna, her sister, had her own use for tennis balls.  Her favorite game combined two of them with jumping. I would stand in one place and throw the ball in one direction. She’d sprint down the yard until she’d jump and catch the ball, then she’d turn around, and run back to me. By the time she reached me, I would have thrown another ball in the direction she was running, so she just kept on going past me, dropping the ball while running. When the second ball started coming down, she’d jump in the air, catch it, turn, run back and drop it at my feet. She could keep this up for a very long time. And when she was done, she’d lay down in the grass, panting, with her eyes closed to slits, her muzzle lifted to the sky, and a smile on her face. 

Sundance ~ our Sanctuary’s namesake ~ was not particularly enamored of tennis balls.  He’d definitely chase after one ~ sometimes even bringing it back! ~ but it was clearly never his thing.  Then Sunny met a frisbee.  These were not just any plastic frisbees; we tried those.  They were cheap and colorful, and any one of the dogs would just chew it to shreds and spit it out within five minutes of our tossing it.  Sunny’s frisbee, though, was special. It was made from an off-white flexible material that seemed impervious to dog teeth. He loved it instantly and chased it for hours. He was a better frisbee player than most people I’ve known!

Riley, like the others, is very particular about his form of exercise.  We’ve tried throwing tennis balls ~ he ate them. We’ve tried throwing frisbees ~ he shredded them. We’ve even thrown sticks! Apparently, those are definitely too tasty to use for exercise.  Then Riley met a soccer ball ~ and Riley found his thing. When he’s ready, he brings his soccer ball to us, drops it relatively close to our feet, backs up a bit and sits down, ears perked and all but vibrating.  We throw it, he dashes after it, and one of several things might happen. He might run right over the top of it, then have to turn in circles to see where it went.  He might lunge at it, teeth all ready to snap onto it, only to have it bounce up and hit him in the chest ~ then roll under him. Or he might actually catch it. If that happens, he’s totally startled and will run into the fence before trotting back to us, prize clutched tightly in his mouth and a look somewhere between amazement and pride in his eyes.  

In so many ways, all of our Aussies over the years have been totally unique beings. They all want to run, and they learn to fetch with very little training.  The way each one wants to run, though, is one of the most unique pieces of them. I should note, however, that one of the characteristics that unites all of them is this:  There is a definite difference in their minds between fetch and come.  Even Cheetos wouldn’t work for come.  For that command, I needed hot dogs!