My dog has a problem... maybe it's an addiction. He loves balls. Squeaky balls, rubber balls, plush balls, Chuck-it balls, Hole-e roller balls... he doesn't care as long as it's a ball and there's someone willing to blow out an elbow throwing said ball for him.
His newest, brightest, best ball is a Christmas gift from Tammy. I think this was meant as a torture device for the humans connected to the dogs. Everyone got one - no one was spared. Fortunately, the ball Vinnie got was a bit shy in the squeaker department (thank you God!!). He loves his ball - it goes with him everywhere. I think the egg babies are being neglected. That's fine by me. The egg babies get stuck under the furniture. This results in said Poodle scratching at the side of the offending furniture until I can't take it anymore and move furniture to get an egg baby - and it must be THAT egg baby. Never mind that there are TEN other egg babies scattered about the house. But I digress...
Here is the newest addiction in the house:
His newest, brightest, best ball is a Christmas gift from Tammy. I think this was meant as a torture device for the humans connected to the dogs. Everyone got one - no one was spared. Fortunately, the ball Vinnie got was a bit shy in the squeaker department (thank you God!!). He loves his ball - it goes with him everywhere. I think the egg babies are being neglected. That's fine by me. The egg babies get stuck under the furniture. This results in said Poodle scratching at the side of the offending furniture until I can't take it anymore and move furniture to get an egg baby - and it must be THAT egg baby. Never mind that there are TEN other egg babies scattered about the house. But I digress...
Here is the newest addiction in the house: