Grapeling

Koa is 3. She chases balls. Swim, retrieve, return. Drop, panting, waiting.

She and Jonnie B. Goode used to grapple in the cul-de-sac, sprinting from one lawn to the next, twirling and nipping and racing to the thrown ball.  At first, when Koa was just a puppy, JBG would dominate, but friendly-like, knocking her over and catching the ball, slowing until Koa caught up, showing the ball in his mouth to her then turning when she went to grab it. Finally she caught up in size, equaling his (but no more) and then in her youth surpassed him in speed, until he'd just take a few steps, let her get it... then steal it as soon as her attention lapsed.

She'd hurtle into the pool. His ears or something kept him out; he never really liked the water, for a lab.

They were a happy pair, these neighbors. I wonder if she misses him.

Over the weekend the boys and I went to Lake Havasu with Koa and her owners. She chased into the water and chased and chased and finally on one in-bound swim looked at me, chest-deep, and swam right on up into my arms. She dropped the ball into the water and let me hold her; I was closer than land. Koa leaned into me, the way I held JBG lifting him out of the car last month on the last trudge to the vet, lighter than usual, light as though he were floating in water, ball at the ready.

Then Koa snorted and pushed off, retrieving that sopping wet mess of a tennis ball, and swam to shore.

Later, at the house she rested her head on my foot and fell asleep, snorting heavily, and when I went to bed, she noiselessly got up and slept at the foot of my bed.

It makes me wonder what dogs remember - if she remembered the lawn grapeling, the way Jonnie and she used to gambol about and how I'd steal an ear scratch if they came into range, if she knew what it means for a man to feel the heft of his dog in his arms.

It's just a little thing, nothing, I'm sure, how this chocolate lab favored me with the drop of the ball; I'm sure I was just a convenient stopping point, between chases and rest.