Rear Window meets Bring 'em Back Alive meets Air Bud

Claren and her ball in better days.

Claren lost her ball.

I would be inclined to say, "Oh well, it'll turn up," because she is not the sharpest tool in the shed. The ball is also green so it blends in with the grass.

But I am almost sure she left it under the lilacs near my little sister's house. And she may not be the brightest dog in the world -- she probably is, though -- but she loves that ball and can find it almost anywhere.

Then I remembered once again why I hate the builder who built the four homes on Gram's back lot.

One of the families in those homes has a black Lab. Nice dog. He has been in our yard at least once that I know. And now I am thinking maybe more than once, because I glanced into their unfenced yard and saw a green ball.

I know it might not be Claren's, but the thing is there is no way for someone in a wheelchair to check. I can't wander surreptitiously in because well, nothing I do is secretive.

I can't go to the backdoor and knock and say, "I think my dog's ball is in your yard; I am just going to see," because -- and this is why I hate the builder -- all the backdoors are about 10 feet high and open into space ... unless the families bought a deck but the decks are still inaccessible.

The front doors are also about 10 feet high, except for one. It is only about three feet up and recessed in some stairs.

I know it is hard to build a house with front and back doors that are accessible, but this builder didn't even try. When he first proposed to buy the land to build the houses, Mom asked him what about wheelchair users. He shrugged and said, these sell.

With a secret visit out of the question, what did I do: I took a picture, like a Rear Window-reject, so my sister can go up there tomorrow. (Note for EJD: Top right corner. Technically in the third yard from the top but right on the grass line. Green rubber ball that says fetch. Go get 'em!)