Rosco's Sweetheart Soul

Tonight I am playing bal with Fipsie who is as alert as ever. As usual I am lying on the floor, tossing. As we know, he will not play unless I am lying on the floor. The well rehearsed drill is known to us both: As he comes for the ball, I toss and he turns to run after it.

At one point, Fipsie is out in the open patio and I have the ball in front of me between my two outstretched arms. I decide to vary the routine. My devious strategy is to out-wait Fips until he comes running for the ball and then SNATCH it away from him. Ha ha ha! I pretend to sleep.

Fipsie's devious strategy is to wait till I put my head down and then charge fast and snatch it away from me, before... Uh... by the time I lift my head and move my hand, Fipsie is padding away with the ballie in his maw. Ooomans! So hopelessly slow.

Rosco wants in on the play, but he doesn't like balls. Instead he has the ex-squeaky fuzzy donut. The routine here is to do tuggies and then when he releases, toss the fuzzy for him to fetch. This is not a very big fuzzy, and in the wrastle, I yank it away from him and he does a retrieving chomp. Alas he chomps on my finger and I let out an involuntary yelp. OW!

Little Roski, immediately shoves his nose into my face and starts licking furiously. And lick, and lick, and lick.... He is SUCH a sweetheart. I pet him and say I know, it was just an accident and pet him some more.

Twenty minutes later I am drowsing on the floor. Fipsie is off with his possessed bal, and Rosco is near my thigh with his head resting near the now hopelessly chewed up fuzzy donut. There's still enough "corner" to grab and toss, but as I reach for it Rosco looks at the fuzzy and then comes up to my face to give me a "pre-apology" licky poo. I'm sure he's noticed the size differential and I interpret his lick to mean: "I know, and I pwomise not to bite you."

It's really quite amazing... not only does he apologize, he also seeks to pre-assure. Li'l Rosquito.

Dumb dogs. It's all instinct. They don't really feel anything. I'm just anthropomorphizing. Animals don't have a soul.