SINCE I do not have the parts that I was born with, there are only limited interests in my dog life. Food, walks, sleep and toys sums it up.
She-who-is-mostly-ignored, – the one who shares a bed with He-who-thinks-he’s-the-boss – often mentions the number of toys I have and how much room they take up.
I find this slightly hypocritical from a person who has approximately a hundred pieces of apparel for every toy I have but, hey, I’m an orphan so I keep my mouth shut.
But it is great to let rip in print.
Anything bouncy is greatly valued – tennis balls are perfect. Things to tug are also favourites and give me the chance to practise blood-curdling growls.
But there is something about a squeaky toy which I just can’t resist… I have a collection of four at the last count and the ‘boss’ can bring me running from anywhere with just one squeak at any time – although his aim is not always missile-precision sharp.
This week has been bonus week for me: some guests returning to Molino del Santo brought me a present of a squeaky grouse.
The noise is a delight but – even better – it’s fabric, not plastic. This means it gets covered in soil, saliva and irritates everybody – I am so happy.
So if you are returning to Molino del Santo please feel free to remember an orphan dog. I’ll wag my tail for you.
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- Winter walkies - 3 Nov, 2015 @ 09:06
- Toy boy - 23 Oct, 2015 @ 15:30
- Dog days - 1 Oct, 2015 @ 14:32
- Eddie the Hotel Dog ponders beach etiquette - 6 Sep, 2015 @ 15:11
- A tail of two traumas - 25 Aug, 2015 @ 10:00
- Boys’ toys - 14 Aug, 2015 @ 09:00
- Paella passion - 24 Jul, 2015 @ 16:33