June 28, 2011

photo 1Juta is a plush toy kind of gal.

photo 2It’s either a rawhide that she can chew and eat, or stuffed, cartoony looking animals. She won’t touch anything else.

She’ll cherish any new plush that comes into the house. Walking up and wagging at it when she thinks we aren’t looking, gently carrying it around, drooling all over it. She’ll pick it up and carry it around and deposit it, saliva and all, into our laps.

The newest toy is the one she will pick out of her toy box nine out of ten times.

She’ll continue the niceties with her newest friend until one day, without explanation, she turns.

And darnit if that poor stuffed animal ever has a chance. It’s gutted and stripped of its squeaker and, in a matter of minutes, turned into a flat, lifeless shell of its former self.

It covers our living room in fluff.

Speaking of which, how is it possible that such a seemingly small stuffed animal can include THAT MUCH stuffing?

Seriously. How?

Do you know? If so, please educate this fluff-picker-upper at your earliest possible convenience. Thank you for your cooperation.

photo 3

Last weekend was the punkin’s birthday. Four years old! So along with a couple treats from the barkery just down the street from our house, this fellow joined our household.

(Barkery. Isn’t that the greatest name for a place that sells dog treats?)

photo 2His tag said he was a chimpanzee. I believe we named him Chester.

photo 3
photo 4 (Touchdown!)


photo 3
photo 5Poor Chester.

photo 4He doesn’t stand a chance.

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