But once Reacher has it clenched firmly in his jaw (and as long as Vega agrees to let him keep it) he's happy to lie down and munch on that tennis ball until it's totally destroyed. In fact, he would prefer to eat the whole thing, fuzzy green cover and all. Not good for the digestive system, however.
Even though I understand the risks of Reacher eating tennis balls, I admit I'll actually offer him a fresh one some evenings and hope it tantalizes his taste buds. That means it will keep him occupied for at least 30 minutes. And I'll have 30 minutes of peace and quiet. As an added bonus, I know when Reacher's chewing on a tennis ball he's not destroying anything else.
Of course, I really don't want him to ingest any part of the ball. So, the trick has become to allow him to gnaw away at the thing up until the point he's about to dislodge a piece. After months of experience, I can tell you it's all about the sound.
At the beginning, chewing a tennis ball is a very quiet activity. Then comes a smacking-your-lips kind of noise when the cover becomes wet. And kind of a clicking sound as the walls of the ball become weaker and begin to contract and expand as Reacher chews. There is Reacher's occasional whine of pleasure. And finally, the whooshing of air when his teeth have broken through.
As soon as I hear the whooshing sound I know the party's over for both of us. And it's time for the ball to go into the trash.
Because once there's a whoosh there's a puncture. And after the puncture comes a hole. And if there's a hole there's a missing piece. But of course, it's not really missing. I know where it is. It's just been swallowed.
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