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Thursday, March 17, 2011


Obsessive Compulsion Disorder. Anyone who has a Boston Terrorist for a pet knows what this is. If you don't understand, it's when there are like six thousand little green tennis balls all over the house, in every room and your dog only wants one specific ball and it just happens to be under a bookcase.

Spunky waiting forever for David to throw the ball.
You can be doing something important like trying to get your blog post finished or making toast and out of the living room comes a pathetic little whine from your puppy dog. I don't mean just a sigh type whine. The is a really gut wrenching cry like whine from a poor puppy that lost his only green friend from a sea of friends all around him.

I for one don't want to get down on my arthritic knees just to get one stupid ball. So there Spunky sits for two hours. Whining and occasionally barking like he's trying to get the ball's attention.  Such concentration. I wish I had that. Then he gets tired and decides to lay down and wait for it to come out on it's own.

Finally David comes home for lunch and Spunky is all crazy with joy. He shows David his problem and it's like a mental thing with those two. Except David has extortion on his mind. David says sympathetically, "okay I'll get it out for you. Ya got a dollar? No?  How bout fifty cents?"

Poor Spunkinator. He can't seem to catch a break today. I smack David upside the head and he get's the ball for the little Spunkazoid, who shows his elation at getting his friend back by prancing off to the media room to put it in his bed where he can sleep with it for the afternoon siesta.
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