Genetics giveth, and taketh away

It was a beautiful late afternoon at the dog park the other day. The temperature was such that you were very comfortable in pants and a t-shirt. The grass was plush and shaggy. It's had all summer to grow, so it's thick and soft but not wet. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows and was pleasant to the eye.

I was throwing a ball for Arthur when a Corgi came by. He wanted the ball too, just as much as Arthur, which is a lot, and gave it his all to try to get there first. But where the spirit was willing, the body was ill-suited. He moved his short little legs furiously fast, but even with a significant head start, would get blown past as if he was standing still. Again and again, he would chase the ball, until his tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth, almost to the ground. Arthur can be wonderfully empathetic with his people, but when it comes to his ball, he's not into sharing. He pressed his advantage ruthlessly, never once letting up so his shorter competition might get a chance. It's not his fault genetics gave him longer legs than the other guy. We did that for awhile, then wandered down further into the park. It was there that Arthur go a lesson about the hand of genetics. That which giveth can also taketh away. We ran into a Whippet. The Corgi has short little legs because they are meant to burrow into holes, chasing after rats, not run across a field chasing after a ball. They didn't have much of a plan when they designed Arthur, which is to say, he's a good general purpose dog. He's fast, strong, and smart. But the Whippet was built for speed. With his curved back, bulging legs and huge lungs, that dog could outpace Arthur quite handily. Fortunately, he had his own ball and didn't need to steal Arthur's. But the option was there. So, a little empathy goes a long way, because, there's always a bigger fish.