Today at the park, Bridget the Scottish Terrier, who has a reputation for foot biting, stole one of those little dog balls with feet from another dog. She has a larger size green one of her own but seemed to much prefer the other dog’s small orange version.
Now, the main reason Bridget loves balls is so that people and dogs will chase after her and try to get them away. And since she can move pretty fast when she wants, this means it’s next to impossible for humans who aren’t track stars to catch her, and a fun game for dogs who are interested in that type of thing but aren’t scared off by a possessive snarl or two.
The best technique to get the ball back if you don’t fall into either of those categories is just to wait until she loses interest.
Well, this morning, as I was waiting, with the owner of the dog with the ball, one of the feet disappeared. “She must have sallowed it,” he said.
“Oh no,” I said. “It must be there somewhere.”
And then another foot disappeared.
“Gone,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It’ll roll better,” he said.
I surveyed the terrain around Bridget. There was not a foot in sight, but things — namely dog poops — have a tendency to fade into the background at the park.
And besides, it was my birthday so I decided not to worry about it.
Later in the day, however, I heard the sounds of a dog vomiting. And suddenly, there was a rubber orange ball foot waiting to for me to clean it up.
We’re still waiting to see if another one emerges.
Isn’t this a bit of a health hazard?