esrosedotblog

INCREDIBALL! UNBELIEVABALL!

We were coming back from our walk today and there, on the main drag, in front of a motel, next to the big motel sign, nowhere even remotely (?) close to a tennis court was new green tennis ball just waiting for Mr. Booker to come along.

He snagged it immediately and brought it home.

Another trophy.

I have lost count of the tennis balls he has found on walks. Or that have found him. 15? Easy. And in 8 months.

How many tennis balls have you found in the last year? Two years? Ever?

There is no precedent for it.

I can only think of one that was near a tennis court.

Two more, well maybe three, admittedly at the gate of the dog, Jasper, who we do not like and does not like us and deserves to have his balls abducted. !?

We have lost a few. There have been one or two dropped from the Jeep window. Some other lucky dog can benefit. Spread the wealth.

Booker seems to consider this all his right and as normal a part of life as any other event. "Oh. There is a ball. It is mine. I will take it home."

We operate on the "finders keepers" rule but more often than not we don't know who the loser is.

You don't want a ball just left to lie on the road.

This is a thing that we never encountered with Franklin. Sure. There were a few balls found here and there in 6 years. There was exultation. Fun.

Here it is simply duty and obligation to add to the hoard.

When he gets the balls home they take highest priority.

He will carry them around and play with them. Any other ball that he has been using goes to second rank. Then third and so on.

I think I have mentioned that Booker is a tennis ball adept. He can dribble the ball by mouth, catching it on each bounce or guiding with his mouth. Bank it off a wall and catch it. And, he can take a toss from a Dad and snag the ball on first try.

He rarely misses and, if he does, he can almost always recover it while in flight. The ball, not him. Well, both.

The old balls lie in state or readiness in the toy basket. We are not sure what might become of them but we take one or more out of the basket at our peril.

He is right there to collect it and to take it back where it belongs.

Hot stuff, this Airedale.

Labels: Booker