Move over Flyers!

I don't know where all of a sudden at 60 I have become this jock that I was hoping for at 14. Here' another one for the "I couldn't do that in a million years" category.

At 6:30 this morning I was walking the two dogs down the highway. One carried her Frisbee and the other clutched the yellow ball and praced down the sidewalk to the swooshing sounds of passing traffic.

As we usually do, we stopped at the traffic light, waited for the green, then crossed between the lines to the other side. It wasn't until we were on the "other side" that I realized there was no yellow ball in the mouth of that blue eyed dog.

I turned around and glanced across the street and there was the yellow ball on the grass strip looking like an egg yolk on spinach . The little dog with the blue eyes looked at me and then to the ball as if to say, You want to go get that, Buddy? I hate when they do put words in your head.

So I slipped back to the other side why my other border collie stayed put. Young blue eyes watched me as he cocked his head to the side and sniffed in the smell of greasy Dunkin Donuts.

Once on the other side, I called blue eyes to get the ball as it sailed it across the street. I guess the smell of Dunkin Donouts got to him because he let the ball zoom past him, hit the corner of the brick wall, ricochet and slam full speed into the storm drain. Score.

So far my score: one yellow ball in the storm drain; one air conditioner out the window.

Ok, what do you think, God, should I try out for the Flyers?