Cala is ball focused. Now you must understand what this means. It doesn't mean that Cala will occasionally play with a ball. Oh no. It means that during every waking moment Cala is searching for a ball, carrying a ball, chewing on a ball, dropping a ball in my lap. Cala will also place the ball in strategic positions for me to pick up. As in, if I open a drawer, she drops it in the drawer. She loves to put it in the laundry basket as I'm throwing clothes in, then gets frantic when I don't retrieve it immediately. She also has an obsession with putting it in the dryer if I'm loading clothes, and will even put her front feet up and put it in the washer if I don't watch her. She loves to place her ball, back off, and lay down in sphinx position with her head flat on the floor, waiting for me to throw the ball.
Cala, in case you haven't figured out, is a bit weird.
And thus arises the game of shower ball. I'll be in the shower when suddenly, "PTUI!" a ball comes flying in under the shower curtain, rolling around the tub floor. "Flump." I hear her collapse into a down. A peek out the corner inevitably shows her in her signature down, stubby tail straight in the air, intently watching the curtain. So I pick up the ball, pitch out over the top of the curtain. Much thumping ensues as she explodes into action to catch the ball. Silence, punctuated by "skwok, skwok, skwok" chewing sounds. Then "PTUI!"
This is pretty much a daily ritual. Except today. Because today there was no ball. Why was there no ball you ask? Because she ate it. See, Cala loves balls but she's really, really hard on them. Even the toughest balls succumb to her Jaws Of Doom. Her latest ball, a supposedly indestructible Orbee, lasted a week. She chews them until she gets small chunks off, then chunks them all up, sometimes spitting out remains, sometimes swallowing them. Fortunately she chews small pieces. But I do have to watch Zipper, who thinks these small rubbery bits are just for him.
Today, with no ball, I got out of the shower to see Cala in her down, sulkily facing AWAY from me. Obviously it's completely my fault that there's no ball. It's my job to be a constant ball supply. I must be hiding one somewhere! Unfortunately there's no ball, and not likely to be a ball for awhile, at least not until payday. How ever will she survive?