For the love of balls

My mom and I head to the beach with Booker. He’s my chocolate lab who lives with my mom. And yes I used his real name in my blog. If he has a problem with that, well then I’ll give him a treat.

Booker loves playing fetch in the ocean. He’ll swim after the ball forever. The strange thing is that when he gets back to the beach he’ll drop the ball 10-30 feet away in the sand somewhere. As I trudge up the beach for the millionth time to retrieve the ball Booker brought back. I tell my mom,

“I’m not sure how this happened, but he’s got me trained to go pick up his ball anywhere.”

At which point I decide that I’m not moving. I stay by the water. If he wants me to throw the ball for him, he’ll bring it back to me. He looks at me. I look at him.

“Where’s your ball?”

He runs straight for his ball. He paws it. He puts it in his mouth, drops it, paws it again. He runs back to me without the ball and gives me a look that says,

“You get it.”

My mom declares,

“It’s too sandy. Nobody likes sandy balls.”

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