I’m going to play with my friends tomorrow, so I thought I’d better get in here while I can. She really does hog the typing thing, you know. Mind you, I got her the other day… plonked the ball on it and made her type in Greek, she said. She was pulling her hair out trying to fix it for ages ….
I can sort of understand it though. She spends even more time with it than I do with tennis balls… and she sleeps even less than me. We all have our ‘things’. And when the ball-guy lost the pink ball… my new pink ball… down the side of the shed I was really upset. For ages. I mean, I told them where it was… pointed at it, sang to it… tried to reach it myself…
To be fair, the ball-guy did try really hard to get it back for me. And played fetch for me for hours. He’s quite well trained in that respect. Trouble is, I think he’s trying to train me… which is pretty sneaky. So far I have managed to resist… but he seems to understand the incredible Power of the Ball.
‘Course, just when I was having fun, they went out and she came back without him again….this is a really bad habit she’s got. She loses him for weeks… he turns up again though. I know when he’s coming ‘cause she puts clean stuff in the guest room…. And I usually get new balls instead of the soggy, chewed up ones. So there is an up-side.
He asked me what it is with balls…why I love them so much. I had a think about that. It is ‘cause they fly. Like birds.
I’m supposed to chase birds. I’m a bird-dog. ‘Course, she won’t really let me. It doesn’t stop me barking at ‘em and seeing ‘em off from my garden. But it isn’t the same.
Somewhere, deep inside, I know what I am supposed to do, what I am supposed to be. But I can’t be that for some reason… things aren’t quite set up right for me to chase birds all day and bring them back to her.
On the other hand, that’s who I am…and you can’t be anything else than that… so the balls let me be myself in a world where I can’t catch birds all day. She says that’s not unusual…
She seems to think that we all know who we really are, deep down, and that we spend all our time trying to find a way to be that in a world that doesn’t quite seem to fit. We either find other stuff to express it…like balls…. Or we try and be what others think we should be… But you can’t be a terrier if you are a retriever, can you? A bit like asking a fish to climb trees. It can be done, but it isn’t easy!
Right… just time for a nap before dinner.
And if you see a pink ball lying around…
… don’t mention it to my mate Jumble.
Much love,
Ani xxx
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
i wish pee played with balls – only socks. humph…..
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socks??? socks are cool 😛
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yes – and one can play tug tug and she looks so funny when she does the ‘shark thing’. Oh well, it her choice of toy – am just the landlord, chef and mommy, giver of the tum tum.
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Ani is chief kidnapper of milk containers from the recycling….and when she has done being a contortionist to get the last lingering drops, she stalks them… sighs…
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Mum’s the word, Ani xxxxx
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Well I gather he had a similar problem to me… 😛
Love,
Ani xxx
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‘Lo, Ani – Jumleb ‘ere. Gods STEAL, they do. I leaved bone in Gar Den, all nice and smelly soft and she taked it and putted it in bin. Bury in Com Post, like what I do! Sniff, lick, lick xxxxxx
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Hiya Jumleb,,, I know… SHE waits till my pigs ears are just about rotted… y’know.. perfect… then they disappear… ‘specially from under the sofa cushions….
*flutters tail feathers*
We’ll have to meet up for a play one day….
xxxxxx
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your secret is safe with me and don’t let her hog all the keyboard time )
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I’ll do my best, Beth 😛 x
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woof~~
bella here… you know, that large white fluffy beauty across the ocean?
i hear you and know your pain. i know, i know…they just don’t listen to us and yet, how many times do we prove how wise we are… pant pant… i mean, do we hold it if we have to pee? do we NOT eat that morsel on the floor? no, not much… we get ourselves to a patch of dirt, me-lawn preferably. i do like the flowers but she isn’t crazy about my nosing around in there.
well, keep up the good work and bark more – that always makes them happy. it seems they’d like me to do it once in awhile but it just seems so crass to be barking at obvious visitors, like that squirrel. don’t they know i’m a sheep dog and thus, quiet? sigh…humans.
^..^
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Hiya Bella!
Yeah.. I’ve seen your pictures…. the big, gorgeous one, right?
I think she’d like me to bark less…. but if she will live in a bird infested village that has people walking past my garden all the time…. AND a postman… well… I have to do my duty, after all. It is in our nature.
Humans are just weird….
^..^ Love your smiley 🙂
xxx
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