Owen knew three things about the ball under the porch. It was his favorite. It was farther away than his arm could reach. And Moose, his golden-haired best buddy, had no useful suggestions despite being the one who put it there. “You kicked it,” Owen told him. Moose wagged his tail. “With your face. That still counts.”

Dad found them lying side by side in the grass, Owen peering through the gap below the steps and Moose apparently checking whether the porch smelled different from this angle. The ball sat beyond the first support post. Dad crouched beside them. “What’s the situation?” “We need someone with longer arms.” Dad reached in, came up short and withdrew with a leaf stuck to his sleeve. Owen considered this disappointing development. Moose licked the leaf. “We need someone with longer arms than you.”

Dad went for the garden rake. Owen fetched a flashlight in full daylight because important missions required equipment. Moose brought a different ball, which would have solved everything if anyone had been willing to accept defeat. It took several careful passes with the rake, one unnecessary countdown and a great deal of supervision from Moose. When the missing ball finally rolled out, Owen held it overhead. Dad applauded. Moose picked it up and trotted toward the yard. “Don’t put it back under there!”

Moose stopped, looked over his shoulder and wagged. Owen ran after him, caught a knee on the rough edge of the path and came back with a small scrape and the determined expression of someone who would prefer not to discuss it. Dad set the ball on the table, helped him clean the scrape and took a quiet minute for care. Moose stayed beside the chair, his chin resting against Owen’s good knee. “He always does that,” Owen said. “Does what?” “Waits when I’m not ready yet.”

Later, with the scrape attended to and dinner nearly ready, Owen noticed Moose licking a dry, rough patch on his paw. He called Dad rather than trying to rub it himself. Dad checked it gently and made time for Moose’s usual paw care, following their veterinarian’s advice. Owen pulled a cushion onto the floor and sat beside him. “I can wait, too,” he told his best buddy.

Moose settled against his leg. For once, Owen left the ball where it was. Dad found them a few minutes later, the flashlight beside the cushion and Moose already drifting off. The rescue team had finally stopped giving orders.

Who waits beside you when you need a little care? Our best buddies give us that patience every day. When dry, rough paws need attention, AniSport Gentle Wound Balm brings conditioning and moisture retention to the care you give back. The ball can wait.

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