Ice.

This old fella, name of Ice, has a similar attachment to his Frisbee as that of the modern yoof to his mobile phone. Ice has an excuse, it represents his memories of a long lost past when he would offer his toy to anyone who might throw it for him whereupon he would give vigorous chase and leap into the air to catch it. These days, it is a privilege to be offered a shot; you are expected to throw it gently and, once it has landed, he will trot slowly after it, retrieve it, and then patiently wait for it to be thrown again. There’s no hurry, in fact, if you’ve had enough, that’s fine - there’s always another day.

I've just posted "The De'il's Door" from the 17th February.