One afternoon in the dog park I was struck by a scene: one dog had got hold of a frisbee and was running with it.  He was pursued by a pack of half a dozen other dogs, who caught up and mobbed him, rolling in the dust, until one of them got hold of the frisbee and ran off with it.  The pursuit began again, with a similar result.  And so on until they all got tired of the game.  It struck me, the dogs were playing Rugby, except without a goal or points or winners or losers.  It’s just about the thrill of being in the moment, running, tackling, scrumming to no particular end, until something else grabs one’s attention.

Not the worst way to live.
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