Monday, 9 June 2014

The gag reflex

Say hello to Bongo

Bongo is a staffie/labrador crossbreed, and a rather handsome chap. One of many dogs at the Last Chance Animal Rescue centre, he is also a long-term resident (just as Roxy was). Indeed, every time that we visited the centre, we would make a point of dropping by Bongo's pen. A lively, happy chap, he always had two tennis balls in his mouth. If he happened to drop one, he would then chase after it, retrieve it, and get it back to its rightful place.

In fact, we would like to have taken Bongo on, but he's just too big and boisterous. I hope somebody does take pity on him.

I only mention Bongo because every time Roxy feels like playing with one of her tennis balls, both Julie and myself are immediately reminded of Bongo and the two-ball grin.

As my mother will know, normal tennis balls never last too long with a dog - they are chew toys when fetch time is over, after all. However, most pet shops stock a hardier breed of ball - just don't use them to play tennis, because they will hurt like hell if they hit you.

Mind you, even those balls will not last too long with a determined doggie. Roxy's current ball has developed a weakness, one which means that it sort of folds in on itself to a degree. Unfortunately, this means that a tennis ball which is only just on the right side of 'large enough' is now in danger of being a little too small for safety. Naturally, we are always aware of safety, and Julie happened to notice that Roxy was chomping on the ball a little too much.

That last bit was directed at a husband, whose mind was dallying in the gutter once more...

That said, I went looking for link or images of these tougher tennis balls. It looks like I'm not the only puerile person around...