A dog.

I was mowing below the deck with a push mower,  push up, pull back, forward and return, back and forth, roar of the motor, the smell of the grass bleeding, looked up.

"DOG"!    "DOG"! screamed my brain ....is it mean?  Is it lost?

I said "go home!" loudly.

Nope.

Dog.  Black, stocky with those light brown eyebrows and that soulful expression of a friendly animal, it turned out to be a "she".  No collar. Well fed.   Follows me...even as I continued to mow, shows no fear of the gasoline powered beast.

Grabs a flimsy stick....and NUDGES me!   Smile.

So I grab a BETTER and STURDIER stick, and throw it.   She fetches.

Then I remember I have a tennis ball handy!  I throw IT...we have a winner!  We play, I throw a dozen times or more, she retrieves the ball every time.  She's fast, accurate and seemingly tireless.

I don't even like dogs, but I'm enjoying this.  She has bad breath.  She slimes the ball, yuck.  I walk to the fountain,  "water"?  I ask?   "You sure are playing hard"!  

Nope.

We play.

Finally I am done with the throwing and return the push mower to the garage
and hop on the riding mower.   She follows.  Looks at me.   I drive up the driveway to mow there before it gets dark.

The tennis ball lays by the garage door.

She's gone.

Dog.