POV: You accidentally adopt a BALL-OBSESSED GREMLIN named Indiana Bones You thought you were getting a normal dog. You were wrong. You got INDIANA BONES - professional ball hunter, full-time goofball, part-time shadow, and certified people addict. This man wakes up every day and chooses BALL. He dreams of ball. He breathes for ball. If you throw it? Immediate best friend status. If you don't throw it? He will simply manifest it being thrown. Tennis ball? yes Squeaky ball? ABSOLUTELY Random crusty yard ball? his most prized possession But wait... there's more chaos: House trained (civilized king indoors) Crate trained (recharges for more nonsense) Leash trained (walks like a good boy... until he remembers BALL exists) Dog friendly (will bring other dogs into his ball cult) OBSESSED with humans (you are now his emotional support person) He doesn't just like people... he LOSES HIS MIND OVER YOU. Expect aggressive affection, full-body wiggles, and zero concept of personal space. And the nub tail?? Not a tail. A tiny turbo-powered happiness button. Side effects of adopting Indiana Bones may include: Never sitting down without a ball being placed in your lap Being stared at intensely until you throw said ball Falling completely in love with a chaotic, happy little meatball Final verdict: 10/10 good boy 0/10 chill 100% ready to ruin your life (in the best way)