It is baseball weather, for sure. Temperature in the mid-70s rising to maybe 80 this afternoon, with humidity to match. Chance of a few refreshing showers, which we old dawgwalkers normally appreciate.
Again today, following a big weekend for baseball games on these fields, we found left-behind baseballs and softballs galore. If we had brought along one of those tall batting-practice buckets, we could have made a good start of filling it with baseballs. I always wonder who has the money to throw away perfectly playable balls by just leaving them littering the fields after a day at the ballpark.
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Elle hungrily eyes her Carolina League prize |
I digress, however. Today, Ellie Mae, who is quite a baseball aficiondado herself, zeroed in on a practically brand-new Carolina League ball and made it her own. I took her off the leash and let her happily play fetch. Now, she is using her very healthy (as confirmed by the vet yesterday) teeth to shred the baseball and later try to consume it as though it is a delectable mango as opposed to fungo fodder. I usually manage to intervene before the chowing-down goes too far.
We will be doing many more ballpark jaunts these summery mornings. A bonus is that we also can usually spot bluebirds there, which reside in dead trees in the swampy area beyond right field where many home-run balls have gone to their final resting places.
© Robert Gray Holland 2017
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