My humans think nature should provide toys. Sometimes another human will bring a dog toy into our house, but mostly it’s up to me to find toys in the forest. Sticks are great, but even in the wilderness they can be hard to find.
Not in summer maybe, but buried beneath the snow, they can be tricky to locate. I have good nose for it. Finn waits until I find something, and then he wants it.
Mathew may have the stick, but who will get it?
Finn is fast, but I’m persistent.
Can you guess who ended up carrying it?
You might remember, I live in Bahamas on a sailboat, and my human sadly explained to me that when I ruined a toy, she couldn’t buy more. Well, I fooled her.
Check out my FFL (Friend for Life), Tanga. She’s a fast little Australian Doodle.Very Cute. I kinda have a crush on her. Her human, Ann, found us a new toy. We didn’t even have to go to a store. She pulled it right off a tree and threw it for us.
Tanga is faster and gets to the stick first. I follow with the bump and twist and rip it from her jaws. I know, not nice, but hey, I’m a dog and can’t help myself.
Sometimes I can out manoeuvre her and get to the stick first, but usually I have to fight for it. She’s tougher than she looks.
Did you know when you’re sailing the Exuma Islands there aren’t stores to buy dog toys?
Well, I found out the hard way.
I’m playing with my favourite toy, minding my own business having a good chew – and lots of squeaking by the toy, so I think it’s having fun too.
Then, oh oh. The seam rips. All the stuffing comes out. I don’t know how that part happened. I seem to have blacked out. The toy is ruined.
I show Kristina and wag my tail to tell her it was an accident.
She smiles and says, ” Well that’s the last of the toys.”
“What? Last of the toys. Can’t you buy me a new one?” I bark.
She shakes her head sadly. “There are no stores here.”
I had the realization that we’re not in Canada anymore. The question is, should I chew Kristina’s flip flop instead?
Kristina and Matt are getting ready to leave the country for months on end, and there seems to be an endless supply of presents for me.
A delivery person arrives almost daily and gives me a box.
I can hear him coming, step by step, along the dock . . . I can tell by the smell it’s him.
“He’s here. He’s here,” I bark.
Kristina opens the door for me and let’s me greet him. The guy comes so often he knows my name.
He hands over my present. “Thanks,” I bark.
Kristina always takes out whatever is in the box, like I care. But then . . . I get to rip the box apart, making a mess, shredding cardboard. The sound is so satisfying.
Once I’m done, I just have to wait until he comes back with my next box. Who knows why I keep getting presents, but Kristina says it’s something about no stores where we are going and we have to get prepared.