Jack wants to play. All the time. I throw. He runs. Catches. Runs back. Drops the ball at my feet. Rinse & repeat.
He could play for half and hour until finally he sprawls out on the ground panting like a lady dog in labor. So I move on with my day. But as soon as my attention shifts off of him he leaps back up and insists I take the ball. How?! How are you not tired?!
So then I begin my next phase. Ignoring him. He picks the ball up. Drops it at my feet. Rinse & repeat. “Go find someone else” I say. My other favorite “I think it’s nap time. Oh yes, nap nap for Jack Jack.”
He’s got two hurt legs, both on his left side. So he limps with his back leg and scoots his front paw across our tiled floors. It’s very pathetic. And maybe a bit heartbreaking. Especially when he looks up at you and tilts his head in the most adorable way. And yet. With two hurt legs he still wants to play.
What a crazy dog.