Uniform Unicorn

not bunnies and light

Obsession = Yellow

The first time in 40 years we have a dog who is ball crazy. Who will chase and bring back for you to throw as long as you can…or will.

Other dogs have played with toys. Others have had strange obsessions. Dottie chased birds, and actually caught one. It really upset her, though that it wouldn’t get up and play with her. She never chased another one after that. But she also chased airplanes. When the new airport was built, the AFB takeoff runway put us right in the flight path so the big cargo planes were still pretty low when they’d come over the house. Dottie would chase them until she ran into the fence then stand and watch as they “got away”. What she’d do with one if she caught it was a scary thought.

Favorites were squeaky toys and stuffed stuff. When it came to balls or frisbees, the consensus has always been “if you wanted that, why did you throw it away?”

Until Maddy. We hadn’t been able to get her interested in toys at all, for the most part, and what she did take an interest in, she destroyed. A KONG, trashed. Firehose toys, 5 minutes to destruction. Even a leash when she couldn’t find anything else, chewed into 5 pieces. Small pieces. I had visions of the hose Dottie chewed into rubber washers when she was a pup.

Then Leo found a tennis ball at the bottom of the toy crate and figured that this would be another dud. Boy was he wrong. At first she just carried it around the house, keeping it between her paws or in her mouth as she napped. Then we took her outside and threw it. Oh boy.

That ball has been washed every day now and I went looking for some affordable tennis balls because I knew that there’d be problems if something happened to this lone, little one. A great deal on Amazon caught my eye and I ordered 18 tennis balls in a mesh bag for $12.

The box came yesterday. Somehow she seemed to know it was for her. You should have seen her face when the bag and all those round yellow things came out of the box. It was hilarious. Grab the bag, run with it, tug when trying to get it away from her…all the time vocalizing “mine, mine, mine”.

Now, where can I hire an 8 year old willing to throw balls all weekend?

Some pictures. And yes, now we’re going to have to shovel out the sand…from the car, from the clothes, from the dog.

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