After moving to our current facility, the ball came with us. Milo was then in a stall and run, but the ball was brought into it. Daily, if not more, he would throw it over his paddock's fence and into one of his neighbor's paddocks. The other horses would either stare at it in astonishment, or ignore it's existence completely. Everyone in the barn soon learned of Milo's talents and would eagerly retrieve his ball for him to watch him play some more.
Then he was moved down to the lower pasture, and again the ball came in tow. Now he had an entire pasture to play with it in. I worried slightly to the effects it might cause if he were to throw it over his fence-line and onto the busy highway. Fortunately, that never happened. I would be amused near daily as I would see the ball's new location in the pasture, indicating Milo had played with it. It was heavy enough that no breeze could have been moving it's position.
Even with Milo far away from the hustle and bustle of daily life in the main barn, I would be approached quite regularly from people giving first hand accounts on the playfulness of Milo. Many said they would stop their cars on the driveway and watch him for long periods of time, thoroughly enjoying his favorite toy.
So imagine my shock as I drove up the driveway, conducting my usual scan of the pasture: Milo, check. Jake, check. Purple ball, uh oh.
Yes, the giant buoyant ball which provided so many hours of entertainment for Milo and his observers, finally deflated. The culprit is that tiny hole present on one of the ripples. I can only imagine Milo's disappointment as it deflated within his grasp. The poor baby. I left it in the pasture anyways - Milo is still an inquisitive fellow and might find some fun out of it's limp body anyways. I won't be holding my breath though.
Let's just remember the good-ole days.