Life Was Just a Ball...

—by Trish Gallagher, in loving memory of Paddy

Paddy arrived at our house with his "baby book", his AKC information and four soft squeaky balls. Little did we know at the time that these balls would   become his trademark and define everything he did. His day began and ended with ball games and shaped everything he did all day. Several special ball events became the highlights of his day. Paddy's day began and ended at the nightstand beside our bed. In the morning he would sit patiently waiting for the drawer to be opened to release the impounded balls from the previous night. The day ended the only way possible - the balls were put in the nightstand and the drawer closed so the dog would go to bed.

Stair Ball -Paddy took at least one soft ball to work with him every day. He carried it from person to person shoving it in their laps in the hope of getting a game going. If nobody would play with him, he would just sit and stare at them until he was recognized and the ball was thrown. As he matured and was given more access to the work place, "Stair Ball" became his obsession. At the end of the day when the front door was locked, someone would whisper "stairball", open the gate to the second floor and the game was on. Paddy would rush up stairs with his ball. He would toss the ball down the stairs, watching intently for the human at the bottom to toss the ball back up the stairs. The intensity and duration of the game was endless.

Customer Ball -Paddy, a "working class" dog spent his days patrolling the office in his printing company. All regular customers quickly learned that they would be greeted by a ball being tossed over the gate into the reception area by the resident dog. If they were good customers, they would immediately pick up the ball and throw it across the room for retrieval innumerable times. This game would continue until the order was placed or picked up. Not-so-good customers would mutter about the lack of professionalism and leave as quickly as possible.

Counter Ball -At work or at home, Paddy constantly contrived ways to coerce people to play ball. If nobody would throw the ball, he would sidle up and place the ball on the counter - and wait. Eventually someone would start "talking ball" talk to him. He could listen intently forever. He could stare for hours at my back waiting for me to recognize the fact that there was a ball in play at my feet.

Stuffit-Ball -Counter ball eventually evolved into "stuffit-ball". Paddy could "stuff it" into any and all open drawers, file drawers, the clothes dryer, cupboards, under the beds and other major pieces of low furniture. Family members were expected to get down and retrieve all stuffed balls. Wherever family was, at work or at home, balls were shoved and stuffed.

Cocktail Ball -The "happy hour" at the end of the day signified the last momentous ball event of each day. As his family gathered in front of the coffee table with a glass of wine to watch the evening news, Paddy would ensconce himself under the table and wait for the ball to be thrown. The evening news programs were always intertwined with a game of toss and fetch. His family felt obligated to observe "happy hour" to reward him for a hard day at the office.

In Paddy's two years with us, he demolished eighteen sets ( 72 balls) of soft cube balls and over two dozen leopard spot balls. He - and we- lived and breathed ball games. Until the day we lost him, a ball was always at his side.

There will always be a ball under the Gallagher's coffee table in memory of the dog whose total love of balls dominated our lives for 2 ~ years.