PERSISTANT PUP

June 17, 2017

Fritz was at it again.
I was mowing--correction--trying to mow the lawn in the hot Florida sun. I don't recall if I volunteered or was drafted. At that age, any opportunity to be outside and get a sun tan was considered a good thing. Fritz, our dachshund, also loved it. He had a favorite tennis ball that he perpetually played with. I usually obliged. Every few steps while pushing the lawn mower on this hot day, I had to pause, bend down and toss the ball out of the way. Did I mention Fritz was a clever boy?
When we lived in Mobile we had a fenced yard with a gate secured by a latch that lifted to open the gate. Fritz kept getting out. At first, the thought was, who left the latch up? No that wasn't it. We started diligently lowering the latch so he could not escape. But little Houdini kept getting out. One day some construction workers at our neighbor's house ratted on Fritz, telling us how he would nudge the latch until it flopped up and then he pushed the gate open. Free at last!
Fritz probably also thought he was pretty clever because I was forced to play his game. Or not. Note to self: a tennis ball is made of rubber and probably won't hurt the lawnmower blade.
Blam!
Small pieces of the ball went flying in every direction.
Fritz couldn't figure out what happened. I won this one, little buddy. Or did I?
Two weeks later Fritz drops a slimy rubber fragment of tennis ball into my lap and then smiled while he waited for me to throw the 'ball.' Clever boy, you win again.

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