Monday, February 28, 2011

The Awful Thud

Little Harley the puppy dog reminded me that it had been a very long time in doggy days, since he had a new toy.  I thought about it, and sure enough, it's been two months since we came home with "the girlfriend".  She was a cute fluffy pink stuffed puppy, bought for the princely sum of $1. (Puppy gets $1 a month to spend any which way he chooses.)


For weeks, he loved her, cuddled with her, chased her, played tug a war and toss with her.  Then one day, they got really rough, while I wasn't around.  The girlfriend lost all her stuffing. His pet parent (aka me) had to pick up bits of fluff all over the motorhome. He continues to play with his now anorexic girlfriend, from time to time, but she doesn't look near as cute as she did before. 


Just goes to show, we all look better with a little extra padding. 


So I guess it was time for his allowance again. January's $1 went on the pink girlfriend at the beginning of the year. So I handed him February's $1, suggesting  he buy the most indestructible toy possible. Naturally he simply chose the largest toy his money could buy. 


Boys are like that. 


From the warning labels on the toy, it's clear the label was intended for sale in the USA, land of litigation, in spite of it being manufactured in China. I wonder if it's possible to buy much of anything made in America anymore. Frivolous litigation has driven so many businesses overseas.  But I digress...


From the label:
"It is recommended that pets be supervised when playing with all toys. Proper supervision should prevent accidental swallowing of this toy. The product should be inspected periodically to ensure that it is not damaged. Do not permit your pet to continue playing with this toy if it is chewed, broken, or damaged."
Little Harley carries his new toy home.. 




Well, let's see, he can't possibly swallow this toy. He can barely fit it in his mouth at all. If there had been any larger toys in his $1 budget, he would have bought something the same size as him. 


The last sentence of the warnings, had me laughing really long and hard. If I discarded all his toys that were "chewed, broken or damaged"  then he wouldn't have anything left to play with (except, perhaps his private parts...)
They wanted to go all out on naming this toy!
I am trying to convince puppy that this is an indoor toy. Sure it matches the forest perfectly (making it really easy to lose). Once a toy makes it outside, it seems to really take a beating. He has been known to drag his toys through the mud, then roll it in pine needles, as well as sometimes attempt to drown them. 


When we were parked lakeside in Michigan at Haas Lake Park, he would grab a toy, shaking it furiously, then fling it in the lake. When he found out his pet parent wasn't fetching them out of the lake on his behalf, he would gingerly swim after it, bring it back, then rush up to show off, while shaking his wet self all over me.  Even worse, if he managed to run inside the motorhome before I snagged him with a towel, he would merrily track up the floor with wet paw prints. 


*SIGH*


I am so glad we ripped the wall-to-wall carpet out, replacing it with vinyl tiles. Having a puppy, is like having a toddler around. They're clumsy. They  make huge messes.  They communicate strangely.  Pooping and peeing are favorite pastimes as well as endless play and curiosity. One day they're picky about food, the next you're feeding a bottomless tummy.


If they have a boo-boo, they require a good bit of consoling before they are happy again.


I remember I had barely had my puppy a week, when we moved to a new camp in Lake Placid, Florida called Sunshine Resort. I tethered him outside, so he could watch me put the awning out, hook up the utilities and so on. Something I did spooked him, causing him to jump, hitting his little head on the hard metal step of the motorhome. 


I heard the awful thud. 


He cried loud and long, sounding more like a baby than a canine. I dropped what I was doing, scooped him up, then spent the next hour comforting him. This entailed cuddling him, whispering sweetly to him, rubbing his tiny head, hugging him and doing all I could to sooth his boo-boo. He stopped crying but wanted me to continue to comfort him. I was so worried he had a serious injury, but had no idea what could be done for him. It occurred to me, how tiny he was, barely 4 pounds.  I was used to big robust dogs, not these teensy bits of imitation dog. Luckily nothing swelled up.


However,  the fur on his silly little head turned gray. He had a similar patch on his back when I adopted him, but it eventually turned to shades of brown. Someone said it was an indication of stress or emotional trauma. I did some research. Sure enough this can happen to humans and canines, temporary gray hair or fur, due to serious physical of psychological stress.  So when his head fur turned gray next,  I was more than a bit concerned. I prayed my tiny darling didn't have brain damage. It's bad enough I have head trauma, but my baby too?  







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1 comment:

  1. Stopped by to say Hi and thanks for the Twitter Follow. Enjoy reading your Blog. I have cats and the will take a mouse toy and shred it until all you can find is a little stuffing. I'm not sure where the rest is, hopefully not in their stomachs. LOL Have a great Day!

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