Sparky was lounging sedately in his crate. 

It seemed like a good time to pick up the dozens of balls that had spilled out of his snack pit.  I wasn’t even throwing the balls into the pit, but placing them gently to not attract his attention.  Doesn’t matter, Sparky thought the game was on.

When I had to lay on the floor to get balls out from under furniture, Sparky stopped screwing around and tried to help.

Sparky thought he was being a good helper, but I don’t think he was paying attention.  He wasn’t even looking under the furniture.

I told Sparky that he didn’t have to help.  He was getting in the way.

Sparky promised to help, and tried to look interested.

When we were done finding balls, Sparky got quiet and introspective.

We found all of your balls, I thought you’d be happier.

“No, there are two balls I will never get back.”

Oh.  Because the orphanage cut your balls off before they’d let me take you home?

“What?  No, why would you bring that up?  I chewed up two balls because I thought they were baby rabbits.  Now I know better.”

That was awkward, so I changed the subject.  Let’s watch “Clarkson’s Farm”.  Maybe they will show the piglets.  That cheered him up.