Follow The Bouncing Ball

Last week of the year. My yearly jaunt to the Santa Monica Pier should be coming up soon. Maybe Saturday, if I can make it happen.

Pepe and Pembleton’s human pets have left again, and my quads are screaming in pain at resuming the Running Of The Dalmatians routine, though it’s only for a few more days.

Pepe has a ball and loves to play Ball. Pembleton is older, crankier, and may not really understand what’s going on a lot of the time, but Pepe has a ball and wants to play Ball. A lot. For the rest of your life, if you’d let him.

How Pepe plays Ball is that he waits at the top of the stairs. After you’re finished watering the ten thousand plants on the first tier of the steep hillside (so steep the pathway is cut switchbackstyle) and you’re huffing and puffing it up the stairs, you will suddenly hear it.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.










And a mottled gray tennis ball that used to be yellow until somedoggie chewed off all of its fluzz will come bouncing down the stairs to you.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

You catch it. You throw it. Pepe bounds after it, and you start the second tier of watering. Until you hear it again.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

And you turn around. You catch it. You throw it. Pepe goes after it. Repeat about ten thousand times until you’re done watering or have had enough. Pepe will never get enough.


It’s kinda cute. It’s kinda endearing to watch Pepe push the ball with his nose. The first time.













Today I’m watching the ball bouncing towards me. Like that red ball in the Duran Duran video “Is There Something I Should Know.”

It could be the future. But I don’t know what it is yet. I’d like to think something big is coming. I’d like to think something, ANYTHING is coming. But I don’t know yet.



I hope there’s something more meaningful than a Dalmatian behind it, though.