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stoutfellowBuster has a number of toys that he seems to particularly like. There's the rag rope, of course. There's the eviscerated hide of what was once a plush toy, in the shape of a dog. Then there's The Blob.
I don't remember buying The Blob, but I must have done so, and years ago. It's a fist-sized lump of heavy blue plastic; its surface is scored, rather like a hand-grenade. Buster found it somewhere, and loves it. He brings it to me to play fetch; he carries it around and drops it, letting it bounce and roll away and then pouncing on it. He also, for some reason, takes it up onto the bed, drops it, and rolls on it. I'd been assuming that it felt good, but it came to me this morning that there's another reason why dogs roll on things....
I don't remember buying The Blob, but I must have done so, and years ago. It's a fist-sized lump of heavy blue plastic; its surface is scored, rather like a hand-grenade. Buster found it somewhere, and loves it. He brings it to me to play fetch; he carries it around and drops it, letting it bounce and roll away and then pouncing on it. He also, for some reason, takes it up onto the bed, drops it, and rolls on it. I'd been assuming that it felt good, but it came to me this morning that there's another reason why dogs roll on things....
