Ball Buster

Pappy and I went out dog curling last night, and he was looking left when I threw right. The net result is that the last time I saw the little rubber bouncy ball it was building momentum as it rolled down an ice coated slope into the darkness. The ensuing search revealed no ball. I might have had better luck if I could have persuaded Pappy that I wasn't just hiding the ball, so that he might apply his bloodhounding skills to the task.

He had been using that ball for months, so when I went into the bag of new balls I thought we had a lifetime supply. He broke the new ball in two within ten minutes. I figured that one had a bad seam, so I got out a second ball. That one he demolished by the end of the evening. I figured it was just a case that that he was too focused on chewing the new ball rather than chasing it until broken in. All the tennis balls at the dog park were going to be buried in ice, so I brought along one of his last two balls. I bet the suspense is killing you. Yes, he tore it in two, and then wanted to play catch one half at a time.

So now I am down to one new ball, and I am afraid to give it to our little ball mauler. I'm going to have to head out to the curling pitch and see if I can't hunt up the missing ball, else Pappy is going to have to change vocations.