The Un-cooler Than You Blog

The Ball Is Love. Don't you know that? Last night, Scratch & I bought Fritz some new tennis balls. So far, of the three-pack, one is 'inside ball' one is 'outside ball' and one is 'emergency ball.' Fritz went apeshit, since he hasn't had any new tennis balls in probably a year. We wound up playing late last night and most of this morning before work.
This morning, Fritz thought I was mad at him, because at 1AM he started barking and freaking out and headbutting the back door. So I got up and let him out, and he had diahrrea, poor guy. But then he didn't want to come back inside, and I did get mad, because it's no fun standing on a deck in your nightshirt at 1:15 doing the stage-whisper "FRITZ! Inside NOW! ASSHOLE!" and just hearing his jingly tags racing around the yard not listening.
The ball made it all better. All hail the ball.
I also turned on the A/C in the living room for him this morning, I'm thinking it's too hot for him and that is what is upsetting his doggy tummy. Not too many cookies, or Kraft singles, or hot dogs. No, it's definitely the heat.