Fortunately Dr. Juriceck,
the in-house vet for the Red Sox, was an ardent proponent of canine athletics. A
brilliant human, he worked as hard and as enthusiastically as any Border
Collie. He fitted Shadow and me with special mouthguards for batting. They
protected our teeth as we clamped on to the bat, and distributed the force of
the bat connecting with the ball throughout our whole mouth. (I was willing to share, but Shadow wanted his
own mouthguard.) Now free of pain and without the distracting fear of losing
all my teeth, I was able to get impressive distance and accuracy each time at
bat.
During practice, Shadow and I were the first
players on the field each day, and the last ones to go home. Eagerly I
anticipated the day when we would play in a real major league ball game.
My
First Time at Bat
An ominous chilling San
Francisco afternoon with fog rolling in from the Pacific, it was the bottom of
the ninth with two outs and the score four to two in favor of the San Francisco
Giants.
We had runners on second
and third. I was sent in to pinch hit for Brandon Snyder who had pulled a
hamstring while making an amazing save.
"Don't swing, Molly,"
the Coach Colbrunn told me. "Let them walk you. David Ortiz is up next.
We'll pin our hopes on his bagging a grand slam."
Confidently I strode out
onto the field listening for my name to be announced over the loud speaker.
