I am very lucky pup, or so my mom Tanya says, because I have a lot of stuffed toys to play with. She’s not wrong. Sambuca and I have our favourites. At Christmas, or on our birthdays, a new stuffy is usually part of our present. Sometimes, mom will just buy us a new toy. I do love my Stuffys. We aren’t sure if this is a human thing, or maybe our mom is just “special”, but she has to give each new stuffed toy a name.
Sambuca has Pink Dino, Giraffee, and Mouse. My favourites are Sheepy and Grinch.
Have I mentioned that I am an engineer at heart? I seem to have a natural interest in the composition of all inanimate things. Okay, so I like to take things apart. Is that a crime? I’ve managed to remove the squeaker and some of the white fluffy stuffing from almost every Stuffy I own. These materials don’t have much taste like apple pie or red licorice, but it’s still a fun game.
Somehow, Tanya always catches me in the act. I will be totally focused on an engineering project and then, suddenly, it happens. “APPY!!!! NO, NO, NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Nothing much, momma. I gaze up at her with some love. What are you doing?
“What are you doing to Sambuca’s Dino??” she asks.
(Okay, so I may have told a little lie. I might have examined the insides of Sambuca’s toys once or twice.)
Tanya bends down and examines the pink dinosaur. Oh-Oh.
“Where is the squeaker, Appy?”
I shrug my shoulders.
“Open your mouth, Missy!”
Nope. Not happening.
“Apothic Red Nelly Maier!”
She means business when she uses my full name.
“Open,” Tanya pries my jaw, “your mouth!” She sticks her fingers in and pulls out the plastic noise maker.
“Appy, what have I told you about squeakers?” She’s pointing a finger at me.
Me don’t remember.
“We don’t eat plastic, okay?”
I look up at Tanya with my ears back. Okay Momma.
She goes back into the kitchen. All is silent. Sambuca is asleep on the sectional. I am pulling white fluffy stuff out of Dino.
The human sneaks up on me. “Apothic Red Nelly Maier! What did I tell you???” She is mad.
She picks up all the stuffing around me and, before I know it, her fingers are inside my mouth. There is nothing gentle this time around.
“No, no, no. Stop eating this stuff!!! Why are you destroying this toy? I just got it for you schnauzers!”
Don’t you understand this is a game? Okay, I’m bored with this Dino toy. What else you got for me?
On one occasion, we found a treasure during a walk at the beach. It was a little stuffed animal that fit nicely in the palm of her hand.
“Look what we found girls!!!” Tanya bends downs to show Sambuca and me. Geez, you would think she found a gold coin.
Sambuca sniffs it and walks away. I, on the other hand, try to take it out of her hand.
“No, my little love. It’s all dirty. Momma will wash it for you at home. It’s a little chickadee, so that will be its name.”
Here we go again. Brilliant name.
We get home and Tanya throws our treasure in the washing machine. She takes the load of laundry out of the washer and gives the stuffy a once over. She looks satisfied. I claim the little bird as my own.
It’s the perfect size to fit right in my mouth. I put on my engineer’s hat and bite into it. Hmmmm….no noise comes out. Could this so-called treasure have no plastic squeaker? I need to find out. What kind of dog toy is this that doesn’t make noise? It takes mere seconds, using my expertise, to make a hole in it and pick out all the stuffing.
Nope. No squeaker in this thing. Game over.
I hear Tanya’s footsteps, “Appy!!!! What did you do to chickadee?”
She gets down on her knees and looks at the damage. “Oh Appy, the poor chickadee lasted less than 5 minutes with you.”
Yup. Gonzo. Sorry, not sorry, momma.
“Well, I’m going to save it.” She proudly places the small yellow chickadee shell on the window ledge. “That will be its new resting place.”
I look up from the floor. Great idea mom. Chickadee will be safe there…..for now.
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