Henry has a ball!

This is Henry's ball. Just a plain little tennis ball that has a squeaker. It is Henry's life. His prize. His obsession. It borders on mental illness.

Henry wants someone to throw his ball 24/7. When the mom and dad get tired, they put it on a shelf. Henry will sit perfectly still for hours and stare at the ball on the shelf. Then he will stare at the mom and dad and motion to the ball with his head (picture a nervous tick).

One time the mom hid Henry's ball in a drawer. When he begged for his ball she lied and said she didn't know where it was. Henry ran to the drawer and slapped the face of the drawer indignantly with his paw. You can't fool Henry about his ball.

Sometimes the ball bounces down the stairs to the basement. It's gated off (due to a little mischief) so Henry can't chase it down. He'll sit on top of the couch and stare until someone helps him retrieve it.

I don't know when Henry will learn NOT to follow the ball under the couch. He can get under the couch, but he can't get out to save his life. The mom or dad have to rescue him every time.

Sometimes all of this looks cute and smart. Sometimes it just drives everyone crazy. And, there's more!

Henry, you're wearing me out....