I like to play

Dear Diary,

This is my ball.

I like my ball. It is not supposed to be on my wall. It is supposed to be on the floor, where I can pick it up. Pick it up and throw it.

Late at night, my friends and I played catch with the ball. We would throw it to each other across the barn aisle. It was fun. Usually, Tommy would drop it and the ball would stay in the aisle until Auntie Niki came in the morning. She would put it back in my stall.

One morning she said she was tired of picking it up, and she put it on a chain. Now we can't play catch when we are awake at night. I am sad.

Darn that Tommy.