My Favorite Things

Before I begin, I just want to let everyone know that I am feeling much better after my tragic day last Monday.  To sum up the remainder of the experience, I moped around the house all Monday and straight through Tuesday afternoon.  By Tuesday evening, Ma, Pa, and Sister took pity on me (actually, I think it was more out of necessity--I was refusing to go outside) and took the bandage off my leg (after which I quickly ran to the side door to go out).  Wednesday found me playing in the backyard and on Thursday morning Pa took me to the vet where I received a clean bill of health.  Now I just need to wait for my nail to grow back in.  In the meantime, I'd like to give a shout out to my friends Mecki, who wished me well on his blog, and Rita, who gave me a get well peanut butter flavored Frosty Paws ice cream treat and a peanut butter cookie.  What great friends!

My latest victim

Now, due to my injury, I haven't really gotten a great opportunity to partake in any noteworthy adventures.  Basically, I've just been hanging around the house playing with my toys.  It was while ripping the arm off my frog (see the picture to the right) that it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't introduced by loyal readers to my favorite toys.  After all, what better way to get to know a dog than through his toys?

Baby

Baby:  Baby is one of only two toys that have survived since I was a little puppy.  When I got Baby, she had a squeaker box that barked three times every time I bit it, but I took care of that fairly early on (the plastic box remains and provides a satisfying crunch each time I bite down on it).  Baby also used to have two ears (I ripped them off) and a tongue (see the aforementioned fate).  In both instances, Sister sewed up the holes (the damage from tearing out Baby's tongue resulted in Baby losing part of her nose in surgery).  With Baby now personalized to my specifications, I stopped ripping her apart.  Baby is a great meet and greet toy--she's big enough that people notice that I'm carrying her while I circle them with my tail wagging yet not large enough for them to try to take her from me (you see with your eyes, people, not with your hands!)

Nuclear Bunny

Nuclear Bunny:  Nuclear Bunny, who started out simply as Bunny, is the second toy that has survived since my puppy days.  I got Bunny from my Sister for my very first Easter (a consolation prize for not catching the actual Easter Bunny).  That day, I ripped Bunny's ears off and a couple of days later, after Bunny dried off (apparently it is hard to patch holes when a toy is sopping wet with drool), Sister sewed him up and gave him back to me.  Next I ripped open his chest and neck and pulled out his squeaker and some of his stuffing.  Sister took him back again, let him dry, reinserted the stuffing (but not the squeaker), sewed up the seams, and gave him back to me.  Then I started ripping out Bunny's eye.  For a third time, Sister put Bunny back together.  By this time, Bunny didn't look much like a bunny any longer and was rechristened Nuclear Bunny.  Having been given a new name, I immediately stopped mutilating him and he, like Baby, became a meet and greet toy.

Lyle & Monk

Lyle Lyle the Crocodile and Monkey Monk (AKA Lyle and Monk):  Lyle and Monk are my two "big boy" toys because they are nearly my size.  Both have had their Doll Hospital stays (Lyle has had three limbs amputated and Monk has lost one leg, both ears, and a nostril) but by and large they have remained almost entirely intact.  Although I sometimes use them for meet and greets, their large size makes maneuvering around visiting people difficult so generally I reserve them for playtime.  Sister says that Lyle is looking pretty grungy and needs to be replaced (I think he looks and smells pretty good), but since she has been unable to find a suitable replacement, Lyle remains.

Bill

Bill:  I got Bill for Christmas from my friend Jim who works with Pa.  Bill holds the rare distinction of being the only toy I own that has never needed sewing.  He also has a really cool squeaker that screams "OHH NOOOOO!" when I bite on it. Sometimes, just for fun, I squeak Bill while my humans are talking and let me tell you, they laugh and laugh when I do this.  Apparently I'm quite good at picking the most opportune moment to squeak Bill--his cry is almost always totally appropriate for the conversation.

Rudy takes a bow

Rudy:  A Christmas gift from Sister, Rudy the Reindeer has had a tough life.  For the longest time, Sister didn't have the heart to amputate Rudy's limbs as I tore each of them apart so she stitched even the smallest pieces of fabric back together as best she could.  Eventually, Sister had to admit that her sewing skills were no match for my gnashing teeth and amputated, throughout the years, Rudy's back legs and part of his neck.

Why are they all looking at me?

The Perpetual Doll Hospital Group:  Some toys are poorly made and break almost as soon as I get them (my family, mistakenly, feels that I am too rough with my toys, but I know better).  These toys spend most of their lives in the Doll Hospital awaiting surgery for an assortment of poorly assembled seams, ripped limbs, and "accidental" guttings.  Some have official names; most do not.

Rigby 2 : Gumby 0

Gumby:  The first one lasted me three days.  The second one only lasted a few minutes.  Now I'm no longer allowed to have Gumbys, but Pa seems to enjoy using them as office decorations.  They are quite the conversation starter.