My husband has remarked that our living room looks like it did when our son was 3. We have a spoiled Chihuahua, I think. In fact the whole place has toys everywhere. I find myself picking them up and putting them back in her toy box. By the late evening the sofa is covered in chew toys and the hall rug is all twisted up from some manic ruffian behavior.
From the moment she saw it, this blow-up ball has been a favourite. I can’t leave it around or it would be in pieces. She waits patiently for me to blow it up after I put another electrical tape patch on a new hole.
She has many balls: Chuck-it floaters, whistlers and crazy-bouncers as well as a lovely quiet waffle ball, and a large soft fabric soccer ball. She has a Jane Goodall pull toy and rabbit and weasel stuff-less squeaker toys appropriately named Rabbit and Weasel. She will bring them to me if I ask for them by name – at least sometimes. I’ve made a hand puppet for her to wrestle with. We call that one Squirrel and it saves your hands and allows Dali to get into the fantasy.
I have bought may chew bones – the deer antlers are our personal favourites. For a small dog she can work a small one into stubble in 4 months. I now buy the medium-sized bones and it is pretty sweet watching her walk around with one. It looks like she has a cigar. She ritually works her teeth after every meal.
I bought a large antler for my mother’s Border Collie but my mother’s caregiver has allowed him to take it outside and it is lost. At $15 a bone I am not impressed. He really liked it too. Some of the toys I’ve bought him turn up again. I must have purchased over 10 Frisbee – all nice ones for his teeth and easy to see in the grass so the lawn mower or the hay cutter doesn’t end up with them in the blades.