Playing Ball in the House

Jenny and her many balls

It rained tonight. Hard. Which means muddy wet paws coming back inside and getting the tile floor even dirtier. Unless. . . Unless we keep Jenny inside and play ball in the house.

Many of you likely had parents tell you, "Don't play ball in the house." It may have been mentioned calmly at the dinner table; it may have been shouted as the sound of breaking glass or ceramic echoed down the hall.

The start of it was quite accidental. I was tired from throwing the ball outside for Jenny and needed to rest. The only way I could get to the couch and activate the recliner was to roll the ball away from the couch. Watching her slip and slide to get the ball was worth trying again. And again. Rolling turned to tossing. Tossing turned to throwing.

So tonight, rather than letting her run free in the wet, muddy yard, we toss the ball. She has improved to the point that if I toss it just right, she catches it in the air. But there are also plenty of perfect circles on the walls where the ball bounced off, leaving behind some dirt and/or moisture. Sandy says we will have to paint the walls much sooner than we planned. I think they are little badges of a life lived and should remain. You can't really notice them unless the light catches it just right anyway.

I love you, Jenny. Thank you for being a dog that plays fetch and enjoys it so much you don't mind us laughing when you slide past where the ball was a moment ago.