My Pepper was like that and he never grew out of it; toward the end during those final two weeks that the cancer ravaged him and he had to be evacuated manually he insisted I throw the ball; his last day, we played for an hour and when it was time he wagged his fouled tail and nodded his head as he lay on the Vet’s platform as though to launch into that place where the balls always fly and the ground comes up to meet your paws like a soft, white pillow.
Every now and then I’ll catch myself looking up for one last glimpse of his magnificently arched back and eager, grinning mouth.