On her haunches she sits, her body quivering, her mouth
open, panting, and her eyes intent on the face above her. At her feet is a worn
tennis ball covered with dirt and saliva. The woman in her life reaches down to
pick up the ball and she half rises. An arm draws back and with a forward swing
sends the ball flying into the woods. She bounds away, streaking through the
undergrowth to find the cherished object. She returns, her prize in her jaws,
her tail wagging in pleasure to drop the ball once more at her owner's feet.
