Problem Solving

The Pest loves to chase a ball and not just his favorite orange ball. Any golf ball, rubber-band ball, Kong red rubber ball, filthy dug-up tennis ball, even a wadded up sheet of paper ... any time you give it a toss, the Pest snaps with electricity and charges after it.

Inside the house we still play chase the ball with Pest and the Passive One. It's only a small thing for me to give them this enormous thrill. Being the responsible dog owner that I am, I attempt to ensure their health with lots of exercise, especially if I can lay barefoot on the couch wearing my pj's sipping iced tea while doing it.

This morning we were all "exercising" in the TV room and the Pest trotted the slobbery orange ball back to me for another toss. I lolled it over the back of the recliner, it bounced a couple of times, popped up on the kitchen table and stopped right in the dinner plate position. The dogs were fast in pursuit even as the ball left my hand but missed it on the bounces and were now faced with a dilemna, not about jumping up on the table, that wasn't even worthy of debate since they could easily rest their chins on top. The problem was that the ball sat in a spot too far from any edges to reach it, except for one edge and that one was blocked by a kitchen chair.

The Pest went to the far side of the table assessing the situation while the Passive One stood right in front of the ball peering at it through the slats of the chair like a man stares through prison bars. He pressed his muzzle between the bars that make up the chair back but of course his bucket-sized head prevented any progress. The Pest jogged over to join him and they stared hard at the teasing culprit ball willing it to roll even just a little. They weren't sleuthing really, they didn't make up a team like Sherlock and Watson, or Cagney and Lacey ... maybe more like Laurel and Hardy trying to outwit but ending up unarmed for the battle. They manuvered to new positions and still the ball was unresponsive to their mental taunting.

The Passive One shoots an accusing look my way and whines a begging "Help!" that brings the ever loyal Pest to his side. The Pest looks at his "big brother" pal convinced that the Passive One has the answer, and they sit side by side settled back into the staring contest with the ball.

I watched all of this eagerly thinking back to the silent conversations their canine pack ancestors surely had. I could almost hear my dogs thoughts in every change of their expression. The orange ball is a most cherished part of my dogs' world, ranking higher than kibble, a walk and sleeping on my bed. They weren't going to just walk away from it and though the orange ball had two 100+ lb anxious Rottweiler predators stalking it, the ball displayed absolutely no fear. My dogs were baffled.

And so they sat, in identical poses in front of the kitchen chair eyes locked onto the object of their desire. Time stood still for several seconds then suddenly as if choreographed both dogs stood and stepped back and turned to look at each other. It was loud and clear, audible and obvious, "I dunno! Do you have any ideas??" And then in unison, they looked at me and said "MOM!"

I laughed out loud. Laughed myself off the sofa actually. The dogs never budged, only glanced at me curiously, crazy mom-lady clumsily laying on the carpet making funny barky sounds. Eventually I pulled my pj clad self together and ambled over to the kitchen table where I picked up the ball, gave it a toss back into the TV room and they dashed off in pursuit.

I've heard it said that life has a funny way of repeating itself. In this case, I sure hope so.