Dogs never casually stroll to get a ball. They either go full out or decide they're too tired and lie on the ground, exposing their groin to the world.
"Hey Bufus, I just threw the ball."
"Ya, I saw that. Give me a minute, okay? I've got a whole list of shit I have to get to."
Maybe that's why dogs live such short lives. They are basically animals with bi-polar disorder.
They should learn to slow down, take it easy, and it's not a rat race for the ball every day. I play Simon and Garfunkel's The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) for Newman to calm him down.
And they should learn to make lists of priorities. Studies show that people who make lists live longer.
First on my list everyday is, "don't die today". Second is, "can you get the ball today?"
