Frisbee Dogs

"Arriba, arriba!" 

[ more illegible, frustrated Spanish hollering ]

I reluctantly rose from my intended Siesta, somewhere in a deep valley in the heart of Spain, and as I looked out of the side door I saw a woman trying to teach her two dogs the unified, yet non-codified, rules of human-canine frisbee.

It goes like this: the human throws, the dog happily chases and proceeds to retrieve the frisbee to the aforementioned owner, in order for the next cycle to commence. The dog does the work, the owner intends to put in as little effort as possible.

Much to my amusement, these dogs made up their own rules, enthusiastically thwarting any of their owner's attempt of letting them do all the hard work.

As the women threw, the dogs would go off and chase some imaginary cat, the (at this point visibly frustrated) women would walk over to pick up the frisbee, at which point one of the dogs would grab it out of her hands and deposit it at random spots on the ground.

Before I was able to get the popcorn, she gave up and moved on. 

Propping up my pillow for ultimate comfort, I laid back down again.

Berch (?) trees. Seconds after shooting this, I spotted a pretty large snake, long after it had spotted me of course. Luckily it was just as surprised as I was and swiftly moved away.

Berch (?) trees. Seconds after shooting this, I spotted a pretty large snake, long after it had spotted me of course. Luckily it was just as surprised as I was and swiftly moved away.

Water break. 

Water break. 

50? Sounds optimistic.

50? Sounds optimistic.