White Dog was napping. So was everyone else except for Opal.
She made the rounds of standing before each of her siblings, stuffie in her mouth asking for someone to play with her...with no success.
"Bring it back," I told her and held out my hand. Clearly, I was not playing by the rules she had in mind because she picked up flea ad headed into the bedroom. I heard her jump up onto the bed and then I heard the sounds of flea being soundly chewed.
I went back to work.
A few minutes later Flea flew into the bedroom doorway. Opal pounced on it from the bed and shook it. Then, still carrying it, Opal ran zoomies through the house...into the living room, around sleeping White Dogs, into the kitchen and then back to the bedroom and up on the bed.
I heard her growl and do the "Kill It!" dance on the bed before flinging it out and starting the chase all over again.
Opal played vigorously like this for almost ten minutes before settling on the bed, spent.
I smiled at the sound of her settling down. "That's my resourceful girl, Opal! When the Army sleeps, make your own kind of fun."