The Pest's orange ball

The Pest has lots of bones to chew on. Not the rawhide kind which get all gummy when chewed .... who'd want that gunk sitting at the bottom of their stomach anyway? All the bones take second place though. The Pest really prefers his cheap orange rubber ball.

When he first gets that ball in his mouth he prances, head held high gloating. Every available person must view and admire his achievement. Nobody nearby? He'll locate an audience. Ah-ha! I've been discovered taking a nap. The Pest smoothly, soundlessly, tip-toes with such stealth and finesse to the side of the bed, so far successfully undetected . Pause ... breathe ... deliver - PLOP! The slimy dripping orange trophy is rolling down my face. We are eye to eye. My eyes half-open and annoyed. His eyes reflect an innocence that I don't buy anymore. And he thinks, Oh good, she's awake now. Let the petting commence!

Chewing that ball is fine art with him. He's practiced hours to expel an irritating whispery whoosh every time he clamps down on it. Not a quiet pleasant ocean surf type of whispery whoosh, but more like the harsh hushshsh sound a strict, stalwart, seasoned librarian makes against a giggling teenage patron. It's a talent really, as he's had no formal training. And he's composed different versions of the whispery whoosh.

One version has a holiday theme. That's when he's wearing his collar and his enthusiasm over that chew toy explodes. His dog tags get a vigorous shaking as he chomps. Jingle jingle whispery whoosh, jingle whoosh jingle jingle.

There's also the suprise party version of the whispery whoosh that sounds more like a quick whispery whoosh nokt! That's when he's visiting me at the computer, just checking in, and his mouth is open and the ball gets squeezed up and down like bubble gum.

At the moment though, he's playing his silent version. Laying flat out asleep here, with that orange rubber ball in his mouth, snoring. Sort of reminds me of those medieval feasts that you've seen on TV where the roasted pig is served with the apple in his mouth. Maybe he's dreaming of dog heaven where the orange balls are plentiful and your adoring fans bring you dog treats in a popcorn bowl. The Pest breathes deep and lets out a long contented sigh. All is right with his world, a nap and a orange rubber ball.