Mom and I always go off for a walk when he leaves.
But sometimes he foofles around, messing with his laptop or taking his own sweet time to put his shoes on (he sometimes takes them off downstairs).
This particular day he absent-mindedly picked up my blue plastic squeaky rugby ball.
Oh hroofhroof! Great idea.
Let’s play ball instead of going for a walk.
Or maybe we’ll do both.
Waggled my whole bum along with my tail.
But he just stood there looking at my ball.
Turning it over and over in his hand.
I stared hard at him.
Okay. That’s enough contemplation.
Let’s play now.
But noooo…. all his attention was focused on my ball.
To my utter astonishment he popped my ball into his backpack along with his sarmies.
HEY!
Screeched mom – you can’t do that.
But Alpha ignored her.
What? No.
My eyes must be deceiving me for sure.
He must have plopped it down on the table instead.
I sniffed and sniffed.
Just then Emma came down the stairs.
She walked past his backpack.
Ahah!
They are playing silly games with me.
She’s got my ball.
I followed her out into the garden.
She looked at me.
What Fudges?
What do you want?
My ball of course. Hand it over.
But Em just looked very confused instead.
Alpha kissed mom goodbye and we walked him to the door.
Mom put my leash on.
Come Fudges – let’s go have a quick walk.
Walk…oh… no… I want my ball first.
What did Alpha do with my ball.
I walked out onto the front stoep and sniffed the air.
No ball. Alpha drove off.
Mom tried to entice me off the stoep for a walk.
Not a chance. Give. Me. My. Ball!
It’s not here Fudges, mom said. It’s gone to work with Alpha.
He wants to use it to demonstrate something in his lecture today.
I don’t think so. He hid it. Give it here.
In the end Mom gave up and handed me a brand new tennis ball instead. I was still not convinced.
That evening Alpha came home. We were upstairs.
He threw my ball on the bed.
Here Fudges. Thanks.
I snatched it up and scuttled under the bed. No ways was he stealing my ball again.
