This is Izzy and this is her blue ball.
This is the third blue ball exactly like this that we have bought for Izzy. Andy picked up the first one at Meijer because it was on sale. Izzy fell madly in love. Instantly. She took it to bed with her, carried it in her mouth when we went on walks, and constantly pestered us to throw it for her. Then, our dog friend Niko (of the extremely tiny, sharp, needle-y teeth variety) came to visit and ripped a hole in the ball.
The whole household mourned the loss of the blue ball. We searched high and low but couldn’t find a duplicate.
We found other similar balls, other kinds of spiky balls, other really fun balls, but Izzy knew that none of them were the blue ball.
Enter ball number two, found miraculously at Petco. The same story repeats.
Enter ball number three, pictured. Since we located this replacement ball two weeks ago, I have yet to see my dog without the ball nearby. I cannot figure out what it is about this ball that makes her so happy. Every time she gets a new one, it’s like she’s reunited with a long lost best friend. In fact, I am throwing the ball for her as I sit on the couch and write this very post.
Now I know that dogs are not people, and dogs do not have thoughts like people do. But it did make me wonder: if Izzy could talk, if she could explain it to me, what would she say about this blue ball? What makes it so special?
Do we ever know why we love certain things with such an intensity? Why do I consider certain photos, certain yoga classes, certain people as precious as I do? Sometimes I have concrete reasons, but sometimes I don’t. Sometimes something makes me happy just because it does.
My dogs make me happy, and the blue ball makes Izzy happy. So we will travel the world to replace this blue ball if we need to. Somewhere in there is a lesson about generosity and the nature of happiness.
Thanks, Izzy for being such a good teacher.