The Returning Ball

A fuzzy green tennis ball nudged against my toes while I was settling in by the armchair. Standing up sounded like far too much commotion, so I simply gave it a leisurely swat with my paw. It trundled across the polished floorboards, clacked softly against the cabinet base, and then—guided by the gentle slope of the woven rug—slowly rolled straight back into my reach. I gave it another soft tap. A game that fetches itself is the finest kind of entertainment.