Playing God With String

By Sabeline Malenfant

I throw the string out.

He watches it sail through the air and land a few feet away.

He stares at it briefly, deciding, considering, hesitating.

I pull it along very slowly.

He seems to move slower and slower, his pace matching the string.

He stares at it intently, and rears up.

I immediately pull the string towards me.

It flies past him.

Only the whisper of the wind that it created signals it was there.

He dives at me, pausing as he realizes I don't have it.

I throw it again.

He stops. He rears up, and dives at it.

I don't pull on it, but let him land directly over it.

I tug.

It flies right underneath him, his confusion and consternation clear as he barks angrily.

I throw the toy to my puppy again.

I allow it to rest.

He triumphantly comes crashing down on it and starts to tug, growling.

He's got spunk, this little one.

The smaller the dog, the bigger the personality.

His little eyes, closed half the day, are sparkling.

Spunk, I tell you.