Balls, Balls, Balls

(Come on, throw it!  You know you want to!)

Hi all; Lily the Corgi here.  So today seemed just the sort of day to do some deep thinking, and I've been thinking about balls.  Yep, I said balls.  My daddy thinks about balls a lot.  He watches balls on tv and types about balls on his computer and talks about balls on the phone with my Uncle Wayne.  Daddy goes off one night a week to play with a bowling ball and enjoys kicking around a soccer ball when he gets the chance.  Sometimes the little girl next door loses her ball over our fence and has to come get mama to rescue it for her out of the back yard.  Mama isn't as concerned about balls, but sometimes I hear her mutter, "Oh, balls," so I know she does care about them to a degree.

Balls have been around since ancient times.  I'm going to guess that round fruits, rocks, nuts, or other natural materials provided the first balls for play by humans as well as canines (Lucy used to play ball with little crab apples in our yard when we lived in Texas.)  Eventually, the humans began making balls out of string, leather, and wood.  In the modern world, balls can be made out of about any material and come in all shapes and sizes.  Balls are used in a variety of games.  I like games!

We have a number of balls around our house; some of them just lie around on the floor for anyone to pick up and play with at any time.  Others are specially made for the babies' toys and dogs aren't allowed to play with them.  Still others belong to mama and daddy.  They let us play with tennis balls and even allow us to try to push around bowling balls if we want, but there is one ball my daddy WILL NOT allow anyone to play with.  That ball came out yesterday to sit on top of the tv while the OU Sooners played football; daddy says this ball has special lucky powers and that he has to use it to help the Sooners win games.

(The special ball...I don't know why we can't play with it; someone already wrote all over it.)

Sometimes balls aren't even balls.  Sometimes other items are used in place of balls.  Our baby Cohen likes to throw his foam blocks so my beagle sister Lucy and I can fetch them.  I'm not usually much of a fetcher, but he's a nice baby and doesn't know any better, so I play along.  My late brother Claude the grouchy husky used to toss toys in the air and catch them; he didn't need a human to help him play catch.   Predictably, my neurotic sister Sadie is afraid of balls and won't play with a ball or any item used in place of a ball--though she will catch the occasional piece of popcorn thrown her way. Lucy is the most playful of all us dogs and loves to play with tennis balls; unfortunately, she ends up stripping the fuzzy part off the outside of the ball and then chewing the rubber stuff underneath into little icky pieces, often in mama and daddy's bed.  So Lucy has to improvise with other ball-like things to amuse herself when the parents take the balls away.

(Not really a ball, but it is round so Lucy enjoys it just the same.)

A couple of times, we've gotten to go to a ball game.  My human cousin Matt plays baseball in college and we've attended his games in the past.  We were mostly interested in the shade and the smells and people and not so interested in the balls, but we are always up for an outing!

Sometimes the minor league baseball team in Tulsa has "Dog Days" when dogs are actually allowed in the stadium to watch real professionals play ball.  Mama won't let us go to that; she says I'd be bothering everyone instead of watching the game.  That's just rude; I don't bother anyone--everyone is always happy to visit with me.

You know the kind of balls I really like?  Meat balls.  Mama makes those sometimes and they are SO tasty.  If I turn on my charm and give her my cutest head tilt with moist eyes, she'll usually cave and give me a meat ball or two.  Hmmm...maybe that's how I put on weight?

Daddy likes a ball team called the Cleveland Browns; they have a section of their stadium called the Dawg Pound.  I like how they combine ball and dogs, even if they can't spell D-O-G.  I think they will be my favorite team too. Daddy is sitting on the couch right now watching football; he says it's the start of the new season.  I think I'll go lie down with him and watch a little.  Maybe later, mama will make meatballs.   

That's all for this time.  Take care of yourselves and watch out for flying balls.

Til next time,

Lily the Corgi

(Waiting for Cohen to throw some blocks for us to fetch.)