Ode to Orange Ball

Nyxie was raised on toys.  From her first day with us, we had toys for her to chew, explore, and snuggle with.  Her favorites are round, squeaking, mouth-sized fuzzies.  Her first one looked like a small, fuzzy soccer ball in sky-blue and white.  From that point on, she was hooked.  And then there's the faithful tennis ball.

Tennis balls are like a drug to Nyxie.  She turns to them if she's stressed, gnawing on them, crushing even a new one in her mouth like a marshmallow.  Tennis balls are like a security blanket to her.  She'll toss them onto my lap if I get distracted from throwing them for her to retrieve, and will dig them out from under the couch like a miner digging for gold.  She flies into the air to catch them, all four legs off the ground.  Then the audible "POP!" as they land in the secure grasp of her jaws.

Toys make Nyxie happy.  I bring home a new one, and she'll sniff it, tail thumping, eyes wide until I hand it to her and she races into the bedroom to squeak her little heart out.  Sometimes the squeaker lasts a few days, but she usually silences it within hours.  No matter.  She'll carry the soft toy with her and then pick up a tennis ball in at the forefront of her jaws.  Sometimes the stuffie is carried while she bats the tennis balls with her front paws.

Arwen has never been much for toys.  She likes Nylabones and other bone chewies, but stuffie toys have absolutely no appeal.  I bought her a free trade, eco-friendly, wool stingray, hand spun  in Nepal.  She took it in her mouth and settled down with it.  I was thrilled!  A toy she actually liked!  I turned my back to her as we settled in, each with our distractions.  I had my computer and she had her new and very special toy.  A few minutes later I turned around to find the toy upside down, tiny tufts of wool surrounding the now disemboweled stingray body.

"Oh Arwen!  No!"

Oh well, I tried.  This new toy, although hand made in Nepal, just for Arwen, still cannot compare to Orange Ball.

Nyxie's puppyhood was full of dog park visits.  With these trips, I soon learned the joys of the Chuck-It - a long handled ball holder that will toss a special orange and blue ball long distances with the flick of a wrist.  For some reason, Nyxie wasn't a big fan of the Chuck-It ball, and never really raced after it like she would a tennis ball.  Arwen took a shine to it, though.

Orange Ball is special because it's the only one toy that Arwen consistently likes.  Orange Ball is now cracked, but still maintains its shape.  Orange Ball cannot be duplicated or replaced.  I tried buying "refill" Chuck-It balls for her when original Orange Ball cracked.  She knew they were impostors.  She won't even pick them up.

Orange Ball is the only toy Arwen doesn't look clumsy playing with.  She has a hard time catching anything, much less a tennis ball, but she can catch Orange Ball - sometimes.  It fits perfectly in her mouth and occasionally, she even falls asleep playing with it.  I've tried to understand the mysteries of Orange Ball with no success.  Orange Ball is, and always will have mystical powers.  Arwen's security blanket, her only non-living friend.  Who needs stuffies?  She has her pack after all.  And Orange Ball.