Murder, I wrote

I had a horrifying experience last Sunday. I almost witnessed a murder.

The day started out quite normally, taking my usual Sunday morning bath. After my bath, just as my M was planning to take me to my usual Sunday morning park, she opened the door and was greeted by a storm. Having no choice, we had to play fetch in the corridor so that I can run myself drier.

Everything was going on well, I was happily playing ball, when my M suddenly tried to murder..... my ball.

I don't know how, but she threw it down into the street from our flat and even managed to make it look like an accident.

I looked down and saw....



.... lying on the street, wet and afraid.

Then something worse happened! Having escaped being flattened on the ground after a fall from great height, my poor ball almost died again!

Don't run over my ball!


I think my poor ball should start counting his lucky stars that he escaped from the jaws of death twice in a morning.



Once the rain lightened up, I hurried my M to save my poor, traumatised ball. I'm glad to see that it's still in one piece.

I think I have to pawtect my poor ball from my clumsy M.

I'm soooo glad you're back!


But if I don't let her hold the ball, how do I get her to throw it for me to fetch? What a dilemma!