You can never have too many toys...

It's like the kids say, "You can never have too many toys." I agree with that.

The first toy I remember was a stuffed "Simba," The Lion King. It looked a lot like me, and I carried it everywhere I went.

One day, I was left alone all day, and I wasn't too happy about that. Sadly, "Simba" got shredded into little bits, and is probably rotting in a landfill somewhere. I miss that guy.

Tennis balls and other toy balls are child's play. Oh, I like to play with them, but their life expectancy with me is probably under three minutes. Even the "Tuff Balls" and the so-called indestructible balls are no match for me.

I have had my share of stuffed animals over the last few months: dogs, sheep, teddy bears, chickens, squirrels, etc. Most of them came from the Goodwill, and most of them are history.

Currently, my favorite toys are: my puppy dog (that looks just like me), a moose, a chicken, a frog, a Taco Bell dog, a pumpkin and a white teddy bear.

Sadly, the moose has just one antler, the frog is missing a leg, and the Taco Bell dog looks like he had a hernia repair. He used to talk, too. Guess the cat got his tongue. He was kind of annoying when he talked, anyhow.

These guys are hanging in there, though.

I also have a hang-up with leashes and collars. I have been through a bunch of each. Donna got me a cool one with peace signs on it, and I am on my second one. It's a good thing they are guaranteed for life. I can chew 'em up and spit them out.

I had a blue one, an orange one, and two leather ones. Gone, gone, gone and gone.

Now, I have this big, bulky, fat, black leather collar with a matching leash. It looks like it belongs on a horse. Maybe, it does! Actually, Donna had it made by a Master Harness Maker in Amish Country. Don't worry, I'll work on it.

Rubber bones, raw hides, pig ears, yuck! Give me the real thing. Give me a big, juicy, meaty bone from Green Dragon. Now, that's something to chew on.

When you're done, all you have to do is hide it under a sofa cushion for later, or bury it in the yard. It's like a bone in the bank!

Dog treats and biscuits are okay, but give me real food any day.

Well, I don't know how we got from toys to treats, but I'm getting hungry. I guess I'll go see what I can scrounge up, and then, it's NAP TIME!

Woof! Woof!
Stanley