While store bought chews and toys can be swell, a twig can sometimes be the bestest toy.

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.
As Lucy prowled the yard, her eyes lit on the ball.
Lucy, keeping the ball handy for the next fetch session.
While there are many sticks in the world,
These sticks are mine.
Sun pouring in through the living room window spotlights our foster dog Charlie as he pauses while playing with a toy.
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.
This was left in one of the empty houses we examined a couple weeks ago. What is, was, its story? Why is it there? Was it forgotten, deliberately left, cast off as no longer needed or wanted?
We can spend a great deal of time pondering some mysteries, trying to bring reach closure, yet they are destined to always remain so. Sometimes we have to accept mystery as closure.