A dog toy can be as simple as a chunk of hard maple.
A good dog toy can be as simple as an empty juice bottle. Bonus: it crackles and crumples most satisfyingly.
Fitzi, carrying a toy, looks back at Lucy, inviting her to play.
Well . . . you know I really like hockey balls . . . they are my favourite toy . . . and I smelled the bag . . . and it was full of them . . . and it was within reach . . . and well I wanted to make sure you got the number you ordered . . . wanted to help . . . hope that was OK?
Yes that’s OK Lucy.
Still the coolest rope toy on the face of the earth.
This rope toy is the coolest thing ever and I’m going to run around with it.
Eager and expectant, Lucy, presents the ball for its next launch from the Chuck-it! She has to drop it first, though, and within reach. (More often than not I make her sit, butt fully on the ground if only for a second.)
Stella does not need a fancy-dancy toy from PetSmart. She found a paper towel core brought home from work, with all kinds of interesting odors coating its rough surface, very interesting. It was fascinating to watch her get involved, tossing it, batting it with a paw, things she normally does not do. After she lost interest I picked it up and put it away, to be re-introduced at a later date.
Sometimes the best toys are simple ones, disguised as everyday run-of-the-mill objects.
I very rarely buy toys for the dogs. I couldn’t resist a squeeky toy shaped like a beer bottle. Having an aggressive squeek, labelled ‘HeinieSniffin’, and depicting one dog sniffing another’s butt it was too good to pass up. Alas, it lasted about ten minutes in Chilidog’s strong jaws. I was compelled to take it up lest he inadvertently swallow a piece of it. I forgot just how aggressive a chewer he is.