I ran right over and dug up my lacrosse ball. You don’t see lacrosse balls that often, but they’re fine bouncers and chewing on them makes your teeth feel great.
I dropped the lacrosse ball at Bernie’s feet. At first he didn’t seem to see it; his eyes were all cloudy. I picked up the ball and dropped it at his feet again. His eyes cleared.
“Wanna play a little fetch?” he said.
Bernie picked up the ball, reared back and fired it up Mesquite Road. Bernie pitched for Army until his arm blew out, if I haven’t mentioned that already, but he still has a great arm, if you’re asking me. The ball soared away, finally touching down and making a bunch of those huge lacrosse ball bounces. It was still bouncing when I snatched it out of the air with one quick head lunge, wheeled around – my claws actually ripping into the pavement! – and tore off, back to Bernie, airborne almost the whole time. I dropped it at his feet.
“That was quick,” Bernie said.
We did it again. And again. And once more. And a few more times after that. And again. And once more. And a few more –
“Chet! My arm’s falling off.”
Uh-oh. Didn’t want to see that. We went into the house and drank some water, me from my bowl, Bernie from the tap.
From To Fetch A Thief.
Welcome Chancey, Mattie Faye, Friendly Dude, Indie (and pal), Spider (Scout’s friend).
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