Bounce, hitting the ground with a thud that sends shivers. Thrown and through the air it went, flying delivers, from the out stretched hands that released and thus become givers.
Now lost, the air it’s owner. No human hand. No puppy’s maw. No place for it to withdraw. Exposed to natures wrath, trembles in its feeble path. Yet further it burdens, together observers wait.
But wait is never learnt to a pup. He gallops towards. He surges up. Excitedly claimed, caught, enthralled his favourite toy, the bright blue ball. Returning to his master side, from the owner a take is tried To which the pup stoutly refuses: “No take, only throw” the puppy chooses.