"My little dog--a heartbeat at my feet."  Edith Wharton

The heat is oppressive.  Some days my legs hurt--though I'm getting closer to a solution--and on those days I'm not as lively as my little dog would like. 

Tonight I pulled out a handful of stuffed animals we haven't been playing with lately.  I threw them from my chair to the bedroom, then to the kitchen, one at a time.  Finally!  she said.  We're playing!

Before long, I was laughing so hard.  She was trying to get a stuffed animal from a table that was too high, running around it on her hind feet trying to reach it.  

"Bring it back!" I said.

She refused.  Retrieving is fun but bringing it back is not.  She forces me to chase her. 

So I slid to the floor and grabbed it and pulled as hard as I could.  She growled at me with her tail wagging like crazy.  This is a game she always wins.  

She forgives me for being boring.  I have redeemed myself in my little dog's eyes.  She never holds grudges.