The Orange Ball

I know there are a handful of you that know what the above pictures of the orange ball represents. It brings a tear to my eye. I have this orange ball sitting on top of my grandma betty's dresser that she gave to me, in the spare bedroom of my house. I have "the orange ball" next to the picture of Reggie and Hannah, along with Reggie's box of ashes.

This orange ball that once was the biggest nightmare of my life is now the one thing that can make me smile as soon as I look at the dang thing. Let me just share the story of "the orange ball" so everyone can be looped in on why my little Reggie was so special. And when I say special, it maaaaay involve a short bus.

I spent a weekend at IKEA and shopped like a mad woman. In the kids section, I noticed these bouncy ball, raquetball type balls. They came in a pack of 3 in this little netting "container" for them. Hmmmm those look like they would be good for Reggie to have when playing in the pond. They are just the right size where he can jump in for them and still be able to get them in his mouth & breath on his way back to the dock. SOLD!

So I make my way back & bust out these 3 balls for him. He was so excited for these balls that he seriously couldn't even contain himself. He was going from one ball, to the next, back to the first, then to the last, then back to the second one, and repeated that pattern about 9 times before he finally wore himself out & laid down to chew on one of them. The orange one.

I had no idea what I was in store for with this orange ball. We were not going to be friends. I could tell already.

Although Reg did like all 3 of the balls (orange, blue, green) the orange was his favorite. The green one was thrown in the pond & never returned. RIP green ball. The blue one was found every couple weeks in or around the pond, but eventually disappeard for good. RIP blue ball. So the orange one was the only one that "made it." The stupid thing was squeaky, slimey, and stunk after like a week.

Words cannot explain how attached Reg was to this stupid orange ball that drove me crazy. The orange ball went outside when he went outside. It came back in with him when he came in. If he got inside & would realize "oh shit, I forgot my ball" he would be digging on the door to go back out & get it. I'd open the sliding door - he'd bolt to the ball, and bolt back inside. And I gave him the look right in his eyes of "really dude???" The orange ball slept with him everywhere he slept. If Reg was on the couch, the orange ball was on the couch. If he was in bed, the orange ball was in bed. Ok, so you get the point right? I'll move onto the actual "story" of the orange ball. Yes, it has it's own story.

So one evening, Reggie kept putting the orange ball under anything and everything it would fit under. The couch, the tv stand, the chair, kitchen table, etc. And each time, someone had to get up to dig it back out. Within 15 seconds, he'd do it again.

At this time, Jesse and I lived together and he had the idea to put the ball somewhere in the front yard when he wasn't looking so he wouldn't know where it went & we could be orange ball free for the night. So I take Reg outside so the ball can be hid. This should be easy enough right? Right. So I get the go-ahead to come back in. And as soon as Reg's paws hit the floor inside the house, he goes into this Crime Fighting Dog mode. No joke.




Well apparently the best hiding spot for this ball was here.....and why here you ask? Because he would NEVER look in here...the mailbox. High fives were exchanged and we sat down to relax and just enjoy the moment. I could feel the relief all the way to my core. I mean this is it...RIP orange ball. You can now go be with green & blue. They've been missing you....go, go, go!




Now, this wouldn't be called the nightmare orange ball if the story ended here. Oh no ladies & gentlemen. You see, Reggie has a nose like a basset hound. His nose was pressed so hard up against the big window in the living room looking for the ball and letting out this noise like I've never heard. It was a loud cry, almost like a howl. I'm like are you friggin kidding me right now??? ME: "where'd you put the ball?" J: "in the mailbox" ME: where he is looking right now? J: right at the mailbox. ME: WTF! J: ok new game plan.

So it was decided to put the orange ball in the glove box of my jeep, which was parked in the garage. We would take it out to the pond & set it free with all the other balls :) FINE. BALL IN GLOVEBOX. DONE! Right?

So we head back upstairs....Reggie not following. And we hear it from the living room. He has turned his dagger toenails into a shredding machine and ripped A TON of wood right off the door trying to bust through the basement door into the garage. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!

I believe this was the moment in time where I had a breakdown & screamed things along the line of "JUST GIVE HIM THE STUPID F'N BALL!" and "TAKE IT, IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, HUH!!??!?!"

So it's bedtime now. Which means this scuzzy nasty dirty slimy orange ball is coming to bed too. Ugh. This is where J may have had thoughts of putting me in a straight jacket. Mentally, I had nothing left & did what I had to do ok? DON'T JUDGE ME!!! Reg kept rolling the orange ball under the bed, and then was too tubby to get under there to get it back out. So he'd lay next to the bed & cry, then howl, then cry, then dig on the bed to try & squeeze under. Dude, not gonna happen. You've gained weight. Just face it. So I get up & get the ball - which was hard for me to even reach it. But I got a spatula from the kitchen to help in my reach. He puts the orange ball under the bed at least 3 or 4 more times before I finally LOSE MY DAMN MIND. I'M DONE. BALL = GONE. SAY YOUR GOODBYES BECAUSE HE'S OUTTIE! I fly out of bed like a spastic maniac (ball in hand) and demanded J stay in bed with Reggie and do NOT let him out. I was putting this ball somewhere NO ONE would find.

So realizing how good of a nose he has, I put the orange ball in a zip lock baggie. 4 of them. Then, I put the ziplocked up orange ball in the freezer.



I mean, this had to have been the best idea EVER right? A dog cannot smell through a fridge, and through 4 ziplock baggies. He's a cocker spanial for pete sake, not a bloodhound! Back to enjoy a good nights rest....I'll deal with the orange ball tomorrow. Reggie is set free to sleep where he want at this point.....sooooooo, he goes and sleeps next to the fridge. No joke. WTF!!!! Standing up trying to get into the freezer, whining, crying, whimpering, the whole 9. AND CALL ME A BAD MOM AT THIS POINT, I let him cry all night long. I'm over this ball. Peace out orange ball. Nice knowin' ya!

The next day, I grabbed the now frozen ball out of the freezer & put it in my purse to take to work with me. It was the only place I could think of where Reggie wouldn't find it. It was my "safe" place. So I get to work & put this ball on my desk to thaw out. It still stinks. So it's chillin on my desk & my boss comes over to ask about why I would have this orange chewed up ball on my desk. I tell him a shortened version & he goes on his way.

Now, my boss is quite the comedian. About an hour later he stops by my desk again and goes "Oh hey, the security guard at the front desk just called. He said your dog is up at the counter & wants his ball back." HILARIOUS RIGHT? I smiled at that for a very long time. That line still cracks me up.



So in the end, the orange ball STILL LIVES and has made it's way back home & is resting next to Reg with his memorial box. I should have just gave in with them being soulmates from the start :)

I love the orange ball now & will never get rid of it :) It's my little piece of Reg.

My day...really God???

So I wake up in the middle of the night for no reason. As soon as I sit up, I feel it. My head is POUNDING. Great, I have a migraine. So I get up and stumble to the bathroom to take some meds to get this sucker under control. Go back to sleep for a few hours & get back up around 6am. I forgot that I had gotten up earlier so I sit right up in bed, and WHAM!!! Yep, still got the migraine. OMG, I should have never even sat up. Argh. Ok, first.....call into work. 2nd, take more drugs. 3rd, let the dogs out so I can go back to bed.

All of the above get done. I wake up again a few hours later, but not for no reason. I smell something. Something bad. Did a dog drop a turd on the floor right next to me? Had to of. So I skim the bed.....ok, there's Emma. Where's Mila. The bad one. Where is she? No where. Great. "Mila! Mila? Mila, get in there!" Silence. Ugh, I have to get up to see where she is. Head trobbing. I walk out to the living room & she's just standing in the door way to the dining room. Looking at me. Ears up. Stiff as a board. I look around the room. No sign of evidence. "Mila, what did you do?" Silence. Fine, whatever. I'm going back to bed. I turn around, head towards the hallway....the bathroom directly in front of me....I see it.



DISCLAIMER: if you don't have pets or children & have experienced explosive diarreah in either of them, you're not going to want to read what is next.

Just ahead of me, I see it. It's like someone took a water balloon and filled it up with a chocolate milkshake & dropped in in the middle of my bathroom floor. WTF IS THAT!!! The smell was overwhelming. And where do I even start to clean this up. And more importantly WTF IS THAT!!! So I go to the kitchen to scope out what kind of cleaning supplies to even start with. P.S. head still pounding. I get to the kitchen & notice the baby gate is knocked over. So little background on the baby gate. The baby gate SHOULD be in the doorway to the basement blocking the dogs from going down there & bellying up to the turd buffet I call Kody's litter box. Hmmm, ok so Mila helped herself to an all you can eat buffet I take it. Great, so then I have to ponder (and keep down last night's dinner) whether I'm about to clean up puke or explosive diarreah. Super. And to be honest, I still don't know. Whatever I get it all cleaned up - and it took forever because I kept dry heaving every 2 seconds. I can't even handle it. You can imagine that this smell is the ONLY smell my senses can grasp from that point until, well still.

Ok mess cleaned up. Well since the idiot dog decided to prance around in it, I also need to clean the rest of my wood floors AND the dog itself. Now, don't call animal control on me or anything, but this would be Mila's 1st bath since I've had her. I've only had her about 3 months so don't judge me. I can only imagine how this bath this is going to go. Let's just say, this is NOT a picture of how it went.



So Mila gets a bath, technically I get a bath too, along with my entire kitchen. But hey, she doesn't smell like a giant turd anymore so I guess mission accomplished. Again head still pounding.

Ok so back to bed...FINALLY I get up sometime this evening & my head feels better. So I decide to gather up the recycle stuff and get it all put in the big blue recycle container that is at the end of the ginormous snow filled driveway. I get my shoes on, go out to get the stupid thing to drag it into the garage so I can fill it up. The stupid thing is frozen to the ground. I pound on it, pull ice off of it, wipe snow, etc. I worked on this thing in the freezing cold for almost 15 minutes. No socks on by the way. I get the stupid thing detached from the ground and pulled into the garage ready to fill up. And then I see it.



Note, it's green. Which makes it the yardy, not the big blue recycle one. OMG. I give up. Here we go again...I'm not stopping now. That recycle thing is MINE now. Watch out. So I repeat the above process of de-icing the stupid thing & dragging it inside.

So at this point, I've missed Biggest Loser, I've missed American Idol, and I have no desire to make anything for dinner & only want to go back to bed. So yeah, that's where I'm headed now!