Wen took classes a year ago to learn how to play pickleball and at first, we Scotties didn’t know what to make of the plastic balls with holes in them. They seemed to go flying everywhere when she practiced hitting balls in our laundry room and we would chase them across the floor.
Now, we are used to the repetitious popping sound of a ball hitting a pickleball paddle and we’ve pretty much stopped chasing errant balls. I, however, have always considered myself Wen’s best buddy and now I’m her best pickleball pal. I may not be able to play the game, but I’m always there for Scottie support!
Hey, isn’t this pickleball day?
