Dog Park. Sunday morning. Only my dog woke up clear headed this morning. I throw the ball. She brings it back. I throw it again. Again, she brings it back. I throw it harder, farther. It bounces and tumbles. The ball is
my brain. I can’t throw it far enough away. She always brings it back. It bounces. My brain. The ball. My dog pauses to say hello to a German Shepherd who propositions her in the way only dogs know. She
promptly drops her doggy ass to the ground refusing his foreplay. I could learn a few things from her. It would be wise for me to follow my dogs lead. He arrives. He stands next to me. We don’t talk about what’s happening… what’s happened… happening? Still, it's nice to see him. I toss the ball. He turns to say something. Perhaps about last night? More likely the weather. It’s beautiful out, I know. Instead he says, “You throw like a girl.” I toss my brain, the ball, harder and farther, satisfied only when my dog returns empty-mouthed. I clip her onto her leash. I let her lead the way.
