Good Morning Gentle Readers,
Though it bugs moi when the ball goes where I didn't fling it, Beans never complains about a crappy throw. He gets no less pleasure in catching the ball on a bounce than on the fly. Beanie doesn't even care if he misses altogether, he'll happily chase the rolling ball and bring it back, nosing it into the vee between my shoes. He never gripes when the ball ends up marooned in a tree, he simply falls back to his impression of a bird dog, pointing and staring at the right spot until the ball is liberated. I swear, if I was into hunting, this dog would be a great hunting dog.
If he nose-bats the ball under The Boy's welder in the garage he isn't angry. He just barks until someone helps get it out. I keep telling him to cut that out. He just shrugs. There is only one thing that matters in all of this. That he is playing ball. He's in the game. And he is relentless. He'll chase that ball until exhaustion and sore muscles set in. Then he begs for more.
TWC could take a lesson here. Next time I trip over the hose I am not going to swear in three languages. Maybe.