I’ve already allotted 1/8th of my minutes trying to come up with some content for tonight’s prompt. Games? As someone who had never been athletic, particularly in the arena of team sports, I was really struggling to come up with an idea for this. I have no game-winning goal to speak of. No tie-breaking home run nor buzzer-beating shot.

And then inspiration came in the form of a 70 lb Labradoodle who jumped onto the bed beside me.

Being that Kona is part Lab, he absolutely LOVES retrieving. I can’t tell you how many times a day I will be sitting at my desk, and suddenly a tennis ball or rawhide ends up on my lap. I’m not entirely sure how it gets there, but my suspicions lie with the one wagging his tail next to me. img_1876

And so, no less than 1o0 times a day, I throw the ball down the stairs from my office and Kona darts after it. This is where the game starts or stops being fun, depending on whom you ask. Because rather than just hand me the ball/bone/toy to throw again, his Royal Highness would much prefer that I pry the ball/bone/toy from his slobbery mouth. While he knows the “drop it” command, this is one instruction that he will blatantly ignore 99 times out of 100. Because, honestly, what fun is a game if everyone plays by the rules?

And so begins the stare down. Immovable object vs. unstoppable force. Woman vs. Dog. Me telling him to drop the toy, and him staring back at me with a gaze that says “you shall have this ball when you pry it from my lifeless jaws, woman”. (In the movie version of Kona’s life, I imagine that he will be narrated by Antonio Banderas, so picture that if you will.)

No matter how many times I attempt to explain the basic laws of physics to him, he doesn’t understand that the ball cannot simultaneously be thrown whilst remaining in his possession. We really need to get Sheldon in here to explain that one.

And so it goes, day in and day out. The simple, repetitive game of throwing a ball, and having it brought back, time and time again by my trusty sidekick.