Am I stupid?
I ask only half seriously, but lately I've noticed that the high point to most of my days is when I go out to clean up the yard first and then play ball with the furkids for awhile. Molly Maguire doesn't have a strong chase instinct herself; formerly she'd snatch a ball and run with it in circles around me, grinning and daring me to chase her. Now she just snatches one ball as soon as she can and then moves aside to guard it. But she still smiles at the way her step-sister Brigid goes hog wild.
Our games require 3 balls; 1 for each dog and 1 for me, because Brigid won't release what she retrieved until I throw the ball in my possession for her to chase after like a demon afire. Meanwhile I'm trying to pick up the retrieved ball before she returns with the one she just caught. Keeps me busy dashing around and bending to pick up those bright pink orbs.
It cures a lot of ills.
When I'm cleaning up the yard, sometimes Brigid barks at me and I understand it means hurry. Molly's quiet until I dispose of the mess and start to take the balls down. Then she starts to bark; is she saying hurry too or is she cheering? I don't know. When game time's over, we collapse in a chair and snuggle, or what passes for it with a JRT. Actually, they play king of the mountain. Guess who gets to be the mountain.
But I must be getting simple because there are days when I wish that was the only mystery I had to deal with. The world could be going to hell on a handcart, and for that hour it all disappears.
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