Bodie and His Ball

Pinkie and Bodie with the "other" ball.

The dogs have this yellow ball, just about a hair bigger than a baseball.  Truthfully, I cannot recall where it came from but it has outlasted all but one other ball, both of which have been run over by a tractor.

Well, the obsession with this yellow ball has arisen again.  You may recall my recent cruel joke on Bodie where I lifted it from him without his seeing and then I proceeded to watch him return to the same spot over and over, just certain that is where he left that ball.

He brings me this ball at 7am, at midnight when I'm washing up for bed, after dinner when he believes it is prime ball time.  The latest trend is rolling the ball under the sofa and then whining as if it's a life or death matter until I get down on the floor and retrieve the ball.  Both Bodie and Pinkie are guilty of this charade.  Hmmm, as am I, I suppose.

When I tell you that the ball must have a tracking device implanted, I do not jest.  Bodie can leave that ball in a particular place, which is no place in particular, and he will go about the business of a dog day or a night of sweet doggie dreams and when it's time to play ball, he knows just where he left that oversized rubber lemon.

Today, for example, he continues to impress me.  I saw him with the ball around 8am when he took it outside with him for his morning piddle.  In he came to eat and then we went out to feed the other animals.  We had a full morning of chores, played fetch with the rubber frisbee (in a safe place of its own, I'm sure.)  I did an hour's worth of work at the computer.  We ran errands, came back for an evening walk and then completed our evening chores.  After dark, Bodie, Pinkie and I came in the house, they ate, I ate.  And then it happened.

Around 8pm, Bodie started whining.  It's a very definitive whine, one that clearly suggests he is going to die if he doesn't get his fix.  But this time, he was not at the sofa.  For a moment, I thought I misread his whine; it seemed as if he needed to go out to go pee-pee.

"Arf!" he said in his high-pitched drama queen tone.  So I opened the slider and out he went.  He didn't go to the lawn to tinkle, no, he went to the opposite corner of the deck and picked up that rascal of a ball!

Now, amongst our activities for the day, was a dog fight in the back of the car as I was driving on the Parkway.  We had stopped at the feed store and picked up a chewy for each of them and there appeared to be a serious dispute over who was getting what.  I actually had to pull over on the side of the road, screaming at the top of my lungs as I saw bodies gyrating and the dog barrier shifting from its fastened place against the roof.  They stopped.  I scolded.  They sulked.  They took their corners in the back and didn't make a peep for the rest of the ride home.

I share this because they are giving each other space this evening.  Still a little mad at each other, blaming the other, yet fighting their instinct to love each other.  Bodie is not over it yet.

He didn't bring that ball in the house.  He sat out on the deck, a place Pinkie only goes if I go, with his ball between his front Panda paws.  When he came back in, an hour or so later, I looked...he had put the ball back in the same place on the deck where he picked it up earlier, out of Pinkie's path to the lawn in the morning.

And tomorrow morning, I assure you, just as those Cascade Mountains are going to shine under the eastern rising sun, he will yelp for me to open that door and he will aim straight for that ball.