I was supposed to go on a bike ride with Elle but she ditched me for her friend. It’s okay. Her behavior is age-appropriate, however I’m still getting fatter. Three oreo cookies later, I took the dog outside to play. He never ditches me. In fact, Jack is so excited to see me every evening at 5:30 that he barks and pees, as if on schedule. His nickname is Squirt.
Jack loves to play ball, so much so that he’s taught himself to bring the ball back knowing that the humans he lives with are too damn lazy to retrieve the ball themselves.
(Glow-in-the-dark balls, if you ever wanted to play ball with your dog in the pitch black night. ‘Cause that’s safe. Although this could totally come in handy during a Category 3 hurricane when the power goes out.)
Mighty Dog! (excuse the dead grass – it’s common here in Florida. We’re either flooded, experiencing drought, or totally engulfed in wildfires.)
I got balls!!! Heh.
Again? C’mon! Again? AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN!!!
So I throw the ball and he brings it back, again and again and again. Sadly, my tolerance for playing ball with the dog is about as high as my tolerance for playing dolls with the kid. I’m really only reinforcing the whole lazy human idea.