A shift in priorities
Diesel loves plush toys. I have a weakness for buying them and he has no less than three dozen. He does have his three favorites though – bull, bungee dog, and Love Hound – at the moment.
Diesel accompanied me on a recent trip to the pet supply shop. His favorite aisles are the dry, bagged dog food aisles, where he snouts under the lowest shelves in search of loose kibble. For some reason the store nearest our house doesn't sweep up as often as other stores we've visited so he has plenty to sample.
He also loves the plush toy aisle and on this visit he decided to shop. He perused the different compartments of toys until he came to Love Hound, where his decision was made. He pulled his very own hound off the shelf and began tossing it around in the aisle. Love Hound isn't much to look at and certainly wouldn't have been *my* first choice. For starters, it's mainly white which means it morphed to a dingy grey in the matter of a week. It has Love Hound embroidered in red on the white body and it has blue spots. But I was sold while he was playing with it in the store. With every little bite or nibble he took it made a hilarious sound. Not a squeak like all his other toys … more of a moan that rose to a desperate squeal depending how hard he bit. It was like he was communicating with me through the toy. I couldn't stop laughing and that was Mark's reaction too when we brought it home. You'd think we'd get tired of hearing Love Hound but it still makes us laugh.
It's been his favorite toy for a solid three weeks which is a pretty good run. After I went to bed two nights ago Mark came in to wake me and tell me that Diesel had chewed a hole in Love Hound's neck and pulled out a bunch of stuffing (very unusual as he rarely chews holes in toys, hippo amputee being an exception). Mark hid the damaged hound in the back room. Apparently Diesel was pacing looking for it.
Somehow this became a priority for me. Yesterday during lunch I went to the pet store and purchased a new Love Hound. Later last night I retrieved the grey, dingy hound from the back room to assess the damage. Simple fix, nothing a needle and thread couldn't handle. Stashing the new toy away for a special occassion, I began my repair. Diesel watched and waited patiently. Once I handed it back to him, it didn't leave his side all evening.
I noted to Mark as I was sewing that I've had rips in my own clothes I didn't bother to repair for weeks, but Diesel tears a toy and I'm on the case in less than 24 hours. His response? "It's cuz you're a dog mum."
Diesel accompanied me on a recent trip to the pet supply shop. His favorite aisles are the dry, bagged dog food aisles, where he snouts under the lowest shelves in search of loose kibble. For some reason the store nearest our house doesn't sweep up as often as other stores we've visited so he has plenty to sample.
He also loves the plush toy aisle and on this visit he decided to shop. He perused the different compartments of toys until he came to Love Hound, where his decision was made. He pulled his very own hound off the shelf and began tossing it around in the aisle. Love Hound isn't much to look at and certainly wouldn't have been *my* first choice. For starters, it's mainly white which means it morphed to a dingy grey in the matter of a week. It has Love Hound embroidered in red on the white body and it has blue spots. But I was sold while he was playing with it in the store. With every little bite or nibble he took it made a hilarious sound. Not a squeak like all his other toys … more of a moan that rose to a desperate squeal depending how hard he bit. It was like he was communicating with me through the toy. I couldn't stop laughing and that was Mark's reaction too when we brought it home. You'd think we'd get tired of hearing Love Hound but it still makes us laugh.
It's been his favorite toy for a solid three weeks which is a pretty good run. After I went to bed two nights ago Mark came in to wake me and tell me that Diesel had chewed a hole in Love Hound's neck and pulled out a bunch of stuffing (very unusual as he rarely chews holes in toys, hippo amputee being an exception). Mark hid the damaged hound in the back room. Apparently Diesel was pacing looking for it.
Somehow this became a priority for me. Yesterday during lunch I went to the pet store and purchased a new Love Hound. Later last night I retrieved the grey, dingy hound from the back room to assess the damage. Simple fix, nothing a needle and thread couldn't handle. Stashing the new toy away for a special occassion, I began my repair. Diesel watched and waited patiently. Once I handed it back to him, it didn't leave his side all evening.
I noted to Mark as I was sewing that I've had rips in my own clothes I didn't bother to repair for weeks, but Diesel tears a toy and I'm on the case in less than 24 hours. His response? "It's cuz you're a dog mum."
posted by snoutbeagle at 9:44 AM
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