Back on my birthday in August, my buddy Stanley got me a verrrry special present.
It was a ball. On the outside an ordinary-looking tennis ball. But oh, this ball was sooo much more.
Not only did this ball provide all of the grimy-used-tennis-ball goodness, but when placed between my Crocodale jaws, it SQUEAKS.
To say that I love this is a huge understatement. There is nothing like holding a conversation with mom with her talking and me squeaking. Drives her nuts because she’s trying to figure out what I’m saying.
I’ve been working on this tennis ball for some time – I take it with me for walks, it watches as I do my daily stickwork, and today it got quite the soaking in the rain. But it’s still MY SPECIAL TENNY.
No one comes between me and my tenny!
Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha…
The tenny is mine and we shall rule the world!!!
Hehehe – mom, that’s what you get when you try to outsmart THE BEST…
Love,
Bogart
they were such awesome giant pictures of you with the tenny!
I love squeaker balls too!!!!!
