Kassa is lucky enough to live near a tennis court. Luckier still, there is a wooded area right beside the court. This means balls. Kassa seems to have a 6th sense for tennis balls. We will walk by and suddenly he will stick his nose in the bush, where I see nothing but leaves, and pull out a tennis ball. I should never have to buy a tennis ball for him ever again. We have been doing this for a few weeks so I thought it only right that he enjoy all of his kill thus far.
This was actually a pretty funny episode because Kassa tried to gather the balls up onto his bed. Then he would lay down with his conquest and knock half of them out onto the wooden floor. He would then jump up and start to herd them back to his bed.
This was probably his most successful moment. I am not sure if his dignity was entirely preserved through all of this but he didn't seem to mind ;)
4 comments:
Sometimes the fun you have is worth the cost of a shred of dignity! Our boy Hawk used to love tennis balls. As a matter of fact, he couldn't run at the dog park or baseball diamond without one in his mouth. I always wondered how he managed to race until the age of four and a half without a ball in his mouth inside that racing muzzle!
We found a tennis ball the other day and Riley carried it for quite a ways. But she refused to hold it for a picture. Subsurvient cur my A.... :-)
HA HA.. we are going to get a great deal of mileage out of the whole 'dignity' and 'subsurvient cur' dialog. It really is a fantastic line. Nothing unifies the troupes like a common source of indignation. We should really thank her! ;)
What a clever and persistent chap Kassa is! I'm sure Beryl wouldn't try and herd tennis balls onto her bed:-) Yes, probably not dignified enough for her, lol! And anyone who's been given the stink eye by a Greyhound knows there's nothing subservient about them:-)
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