It’s getting to be a habit: I take off running after my purple ball, but by the time I catch up to it, it’s not so exciting anymore. You always want what you can’t get, right? For me, there’s always something around the ball that smells better. Like rabbits, lots of rabbits, all around the parking lot. And I must chase them. That’s my job. I chase, therefore I am.
Last Saturday morning Heather took me to the park. She was just planning to spend a half an hour or so clipping blackberry vines that were threatening trees near our Adopt-an-Area. What a citizen! And also lucky to have a pair of loppers along, because when she was done chopping I bolted away from her–and my purple ball–and charged off after a bunny, dragging my leash behind me. We sped into a blackberry thicket the size of a softball field, where it was almost cave-like underneath, except that the floor was filled with thick, hard blackberry vines sporting prickers the size of table-saw teeth. Within moments, the leash was caught, and there was no bunny in sight. So I whimpered.
Heather, bless her heart, jumped right in and started lopping. As soon as I saw she was making headway, I relaxed and stopped whining. Hole-digging would be a much better use of my time. I got down about six inches in depth and diameter before my rescue.
Luckily for me, Heather took this episode in good spirits, wearing all the scratches on her arms (and the tiny one at the end of her nose) as red badges of courage. Since it’s in my best interests to stay on her good side, I was glad about that. Then again, I don’t see Heather throwing the purple ball for me again any time soon. Not as long as there are so many bunnies around, anyway.