Paquita has entered her obsession with her blue ball stage. This happens about once a year, so it must be a hormonal. (She’s not “fixed”.)
She cries when she can’t find it, cries when she finds it, cries when she bounces it, barks at it when it just sits there. Every night for the past week, she has jumped out of bed to go find it and bring it back. She then “buries” it before drifting off to sleep. If it falls off the bed during the night, she scrambles half asleep to find it and bring it back to bed. In the morning she immediately starts crying in an attempt to get me to play with her and her ball. She actually has little streams of tears running down her precious little face.
Last night was the most pathetic. As you can see from the picture, it is covered in little bumps that must feel so good to her. Last night she scooped the ball into her crotch with her paws, trying to get it closer and closer as she humped and cried and humped and cried.
I know how you feel, honey. You’re preaching to the choir!