We all have at least one. You do the laundry and when you empty the dryer find that somewhere along the way you have ended up with one lone sock. In the past I used them as dust rags. I would apply the oil or Pledge to the oak surface of my bookcase and that one lone sock with my hand inside it would become a very useful tool for awhile. When it was too dirty to use again, it was too dirty to wash. And since I would, in the past, have tossed it, it's loss didn't matter much. Well socks have gone up in price over the past couple of years, as my income has shrunk. But I now have a new use for that one lone sock.
I have never had a dog before who had anything but disdain for squeak toys. If they showed any interest at all it was to rip them to shreds in 2 or 3 seconds flat always seeming to be going for some big-dog gland-slam hall-of-fame demolition in the name of distain. Every big dog I've ever had loved to defuzz a tennis ball and then tear the remaining ball into 5 or 6 pieces just as fast. They destroyed Kongs, they destroyed any toy claiming to be indestructible. Sadly these toys do not come with a guarantee since they are very expensive. But Marley loves her squeak toys. Yes, she too loves the act of killing her Mr. Doody, but it takes her a couple of days. But once killed and gutted or missing his brain, emptied of his squeaker, he's no longer any fun and I have a mess of toy stuffing to clean up. So I am always on the look out for very inexpensive squeak toys. Today I hit the mother load. The All A Dollar store was stocked. I brought five of them home and then before throwing out the old useless well mauled discards, stuffed the remains in that one lonely sock and now it's Marley's favorite squeak toy. Ask her which is better: the stolen knot of a rawhide bone that Cyrus wasn't guarding well, or that old squeak toy stuffed in a knotted sock.
7 comments:
knot and they become a lovely dog toy. I just know that somewhere there is an alternate universe filled with the other sock(s) and perhaps the missing lids to the tupperware and the bowls to the leftover lids. What I really want to know is where in my kitchen and dressers are the black holes that lead to that alternate universe. Don't you?
My wife recently got a very small kitten for some reason. When she brought it home our dog Sparky, who has small play toys of similar size, thought it was a toy and kept trying for several days to pick the kitten up like he did his toys.
Of course Sparky was shocked when the kitten showed he didn't care for such attention.
Marley has finally settled down after mad sex for an hour with her little boy fiend. He limps out of here short of breath with his tongue lolling and then starts begging to come back. Marley is a great tackle.
Thome, I wonder how I always end up with a junk drawer where ever I live. I always think that by living in a small space I will rid myself of junk. Not so. Junk moves right in and then must be hidden.
Beach, in order to introduce a cat into this environment it would have to have the killer instincts of my last cat. No poor innocent kitten could survive Marley's tackle.
There's a twist!
Instead of *put a sock in it*
*put it (the squeeker) in a sock*!!!
Os that marley dog making progress on the housebroken plan?
Marley...(((Hugs)))
So cute!
I should send you my lone socks.
How wonderful!
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