Buddy is psycho about playing ball; he always has been. There’s scarcely a time when he doesn’t have one or more of his collection of balls within reach, and he’s always quick to grab one up when given the slightest encouragement. He even sleeps with a ball next to his head just in case, at 3:00 in the morning and you wake up and have to run to the bathroom, you feel the sudden uncontrollable urge to play, he’s up and ready to go. Over the years he’s gathered quite a collection of different sizes and colors and textures of balls, and he works his way through them all. Of course, usually the one he wants – NOW, if you please – is the one that’s under the sofa or under the stove. I’ve even seen him nudge the ball with one of his front paws under some furniture and then look at me with the biggest, saddest eyes. He’s got me trained nicely to check under wherever he’s sitting and pull out the offending play toy. You know, there might be three or four balls easily within his reach, but that’s the one he’s got to have. He always gets such a goofy, happy look on his face when he finally gets it back that I don’t have the heart to make him wait. As we get into one of the many games he’s come with, within a short time he’s so happy he can’t contain himself and he starts to snuffle and snort with joy.
I watch him and realize that whatever you’re doing, do it with
a playful, loving heart and nothing ever has to be boring or intolerable.
What I'm learning is to do more things that make me snort and
snuffle.
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