As part of my regimen for getting my right paw back up to scratch, I have acquired a "therapy ball" which appears to be a balloon full of what is referred to as "granulated pelletised silica" and then stuffed into another balloon.
Were I to guess, I'd say that "granulated pelletised silica" is probably a fancy term for "sand", but there you go.
Anyhoo, it seems to be working a treat.
Unfortunately, Miss Praline has apparently decided that it is, as a matter-of-fact, the very stress ball used by Abdul Alhazred during the penning of his last tome, and there-fore Must Be Destroyed. Utterly. It's for our own good. The Fate of The World, and all that.
I've never before had a Jack Russell Terrier, and the amount of sheer, single-minded focused determination is ... awe-inspiring. This is a level of concentration on one single task that Zen Masters work life-times to achieve -- without success.
There is nothing, not dinner, not her (formerly) favourite toy, not the new puppy, nothing capable of distracting her from her self-appointed goal of destroying the menace that is my therapy ball.
Whole bunch of folks ought to be thanking their various and sundry gods that no-one saw fit to give Miss Praline thumbs, because -- near as I can tell -- the lack of opposable thumbs is about the only thing preventing the Reign of (Mostly) Benevolent Dictatrix Praline.
Which -- come to think -- might not be all that bad compared to what we currently have.