A Girl, Her Ball, And Her Dog

When I was young, we had an elderly dog named Grizzly. My mom had owned him since she had been a young child. Despite being an older dog, Grizz loved to play. He was more active than our other much younger dogs.

He was my best friend. Even though, there were many children my age in the neighborhood, most of them my cousins, I was always a bit of a loner. I played with my dolls, trucks, bikes, and Grizz more than any of the children.

Everyday, I would go outside and play fetch with him. I would throw the clear ball filled with rainbow colored threads as far as my small arms would allow. Grizzly would run after the ball, his long black hair flying behind him in the wind. Once he had retrieved the ball, he would return it to me to throw again. Sometimes, this game would go on for hours.

However, Being an older pet he did get tired before my 6 year old self. Whenever that happened, Grizz would dig a hole and hide the ball rather than returning it. The next day when I came outside, he would dig it up and return it, so we could play again. I always thought that was genius and sly of him. He was such an intelligent and fun dog.

This daily play continued for many years. Then, one day when I was in the upper grades of elementary school, I went out to play with Grizz. He did not run up to me with a ball and a wagging tail. I could not find him, despite searching the entire yard. Finally, my mom told me he had passed away. I was devastated. I had literally lost my best friend. I did not go outside to play much after his death. I became an indoor child overnight. The outdoors suddenly seemed so boring. I mourned him for a very long time, many years in fact. I also mourned the loss of my favorite ball, because we did not know where Grizz had hid it the day before. The 80s being over, we couldn’t find another like it.

Those days of playing ball in the yard with Grizzly were always treasured by me. We have had many pets since, but none of them were my Grizzly. Grizz had given my childhood a happiness and love that could not be matched. I always wished all the other pets were Grizzly instead. I longed to see him again and play one more game of fetch.

I am 42 now. This summer I decided to plant a garden. As I was digging up the ground to plant seeds, I found a piece of clear rubber with rainbow threads inside. It was not a ball any longer. Instead, there were a bunch of broken pieces that had rotted over the years. I sat there beneath the metal frame of my old swing set and remembered Grizzly and the simpler days of playing ball with my favorite pet.

While this may sound like a sad story, it is a story of love. Those memories of Grizzly make me smile and remember tbe joy of childhood. Holding the broken pieces of my favorite ball, I remembered that I was loved by a very special pet and that my childhood had known joy. Those memories are sacred reminders of a friendship that lasted till death did us part. They are a reminder that love is real and joy exist. There can be nothing sad about that. This is the story of a happy girl, her favorite ball, and her favorite dog.