There are very few things that will prevent my dog for pouncing on her dinner as if she has not been fed in a month. Not even a bird. But last night there were people.. and not just any people, people who came armed with tennis balls. Three new, beautiful tennis balls. Added to the one she already had, that made four… and she was in heaven as she quickly trained her visitors and chased balls up and down the garden.
Friends, long known but met in person for the first time this afternoon, had come prepared, armed with the aforementioned balls… guaranteed to get Ani’s attention. Dinner, for the first time ever, was ignored.
Later I revealed the true extent of their gift, as three more tennis balls were added to the tally. She literally stopped in her tracks, poised mid movement, with a look of utter shock on her face. One ball suspended from her mouth, eyes glued to the pack of balls in my hand, and she stalked them. I went for the camera, chuckling.
Of course, she moved, so I didn’t capture the moment with anything other than memory.. but the next wasn’t bad, as Ani spat out the existing ball and gazed, fixated, on the glowing green of the ones in my hand. It is rare to see her this still.
The next few minutes, as she grasped there were really this many tennis balls in the whole world were just hilarious. She couldn’t wait for me, she unwrapped them herself, herded them into a group and kept taking them for a run round the living room individually.
An hour later the expression of disbelief still reigned. This morning she keeps getting a glimpse of her flock of balls and there is still surprise.
Usually, even when she has a couple, the focus is always on just the one ball.. generally the soggiest, doggiest one. The most familiar one. It is almost as if she is so intently focussed she cannot see the others. To be confronted with so many new possibilities all at once seems to have shocked her to her core. In the nicest possible way.
Of course, we do have a tendency to do that, use a narrow beam of focus on one thing and fail to see the others that surround it until we are jolted out of our normalities and forced to look. Then that can be a shocking experience… or a delightful one.
Problems especially seem to narrow the gaze until we see them looming large and maybe just one way through, one outcome. Taking a wider view may reveal more possibilities, but when the emotions are so tightly engaged that can be a difficult thing to do. Yet those who look on may sometimes see clearer than we… as I did with Ani last night, chuckling at her surprise.
To be open to new ideas and concepts does not devalue the old. It may even enrich what we know already, adding a new dimension and depth to what we hold.
In this case I have a small dog wandering round, pondering how she can carry multiple balls.. and finding a solution in a large plant pot. You can almost see the mind whirring as she explores all the possibilities of this abundance. It makes my heart smile to watch her. As she glanced up at dawn this morning, to where the rising sun crested the trees, I am sure she was wondering if that too would come and play…
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Delightful post Sue. I don’t know what it is with dogs and tennis balls but your Ani reminds me of our beloved Cocker Spaniel, Ginger, who would chase tennis balls until she literally fell over. She was not a long-lived animal; she was born with a heart murmur and we were advised that it was highly unlikely she’d experience the normal 15+ years Cockers tend to. And it was true. She lived to be ten. She developed congestive heart-failure, the ultimate condition associated with a heart murmur that essentially is caused by a hole in the heart. Hole or not, Ginger’s heart was larger than life and her entire world was a tub full of tennis balls that we’d collected from ’round the local courts. Some had perhaps been struck once or twice before flying over the court fence. Some were dug out of the mud where I suspect they’d been buried for a while. Made no difference to Ginger. She was a connoisseur but had no truck with splitting hairs. A tennis ball was a tennis ball, was a tennis ball.
Breathing became more and more difficult for her but nothing either Ruth or I could do would deter her from chasing those balls. They would frequently get ‘lost’ under a chair or hutch or such and she would head straight to the tub and stare at it until one of us removed the top so she could fetch a replacement. She’d also deliberately ‘lose’ a ball for the fun of having us crawl around examining the underside of things trying to find it for her. The day before she died she was out in the backyard chasing her green herd.
And then she was no more.
I liked the way you related this tendency of animals to generate a laser-like focus to similar human traits that tend to limit our growth. I wonder sometimes just why it is that I can’t enjoy the same sense of wonderment and delight with the things that inhabit my life as Ginger did with her tennis balls. I’m stuck with the fact that I can wonder. Ginger didn’t have that prerogative and in reality Ruth and I were all that she really did have. We had chosen to be her shepherd as someone must chose to shepherd one and all of the animals we’ve domesticated over the centuries. It’s our obligation because we are all they have. I wish Ani a long life and you the joy of sharing every minute of it with her.
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Your reply touched me deeply on many levels, Richard, thank you. Ginger sounds as if she was quite a girl.
I think it is fair to say that the creatures we have brought into our lives, particularly as ‘pets’ are younger siblings of the soul.. though they teach us a good deal about focus.. particularly tennis balls.. and how to love.
I too hope I can share Ani’s life, though it is uncertain at present as my own circumstances change dramatically and the thought breaks my heart. I love my wee girlie.
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It will work out the way it’s suppose to – for you and for Ani. Acceptance is the key.
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It will. That is one thing I never doubt, my friend.
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I remember our dog Max, a big, black lab, would constantly work to fit two balls into his mouth. Didn’t matter how long it took, he was determined to do it. It was so funny and sweet to watch.
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Ani has worked out the use of things that will fit other balls in.. she has a thing about large plant pots 🙂
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Ani, you are one lucky dog. Enjoy the holidays.
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🙂
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It made my heart smile too Sue.
Loved the analogy. 🙂
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🙂
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