Frost and Frisbee

I woke up this morning, took the recycling out and what did I see? FROST! Frost on the grass. What's up with that. It's the middle of May. A is off on his golfing trip. Boomer and I are surviving, but I think that Boomer is seriously depressed. How do you explain to a dog that his human is coming back for him. He has his happy moments though - like yesterday. After I got done mowing the lawn, I brought the dog out and we played some Frisbee. He has really taken to that game. He doesn't quite get the rules though. He usually does not catch it. He'll pick it up off the ground and, true to his terrier breeding, he'll first try to shake the Frisbee and break it's neck. He is a hunting dog you know. Then, and this must be the bulldog part, he runs away with it. He forgets the part where the dog is supposed to bring his catch to his master. Sooner or later he'll bring it back and I get to throw it again. We sometimes get in a good rhythm of catch and release. Eventually, he gets tired and either just sits down where he is with the Frisbee, or takes it and heads under the picnic table, which he has adopted as his outdoor den. I enjoy playing Frisbee with him because he's so happy and enjoys it - and because it wears him out!