The Toy Destroyer

I take pride in the fact that there isn’t a chew toy out there that I can’t rip apart into little itty bitty pieces.  When I was little, like 9-10 weeks old mom would buy me all these chew toys.  I was never much of a chewer other than eating the drywall wood trim which I found extremely satisfying.   I never chewed shoes…well…except by brother’s flip flops.  I thought they were new chew toys that mom got me.  Honestly, why would he leave them in the middle of the living room floor if they weren’t for me?  When mom got home and let out that “Oh noooooo”  I knew they were not meant for me.  Mom put all the little pieces I a baggy to show him that this is why you need to put your shoes away.  Mom had text him a warning that I had gotten a hold them.  When he got home he asked mom where his flip flops were.  My answered that they were on the kitchen table.  He couldn’t find them so mom handed him the baggy herself.  All I heard was “OMG!  There’s nothing left.  I would never guess these used to be flip flops.”  Anyhow, I got off track.  Mom first bought me cute chew toys in all shapes.  I would show my appreciation by making sure I chewed them like I was suppose to.  She didn’t seem happy to see how much I really enjoyed my toy.  The remark was always “Oh Simba” with a tone of disappointment.  One day she brought home a red konk.  This toy was a lot tougher.  She put a treat inside of it.  Wow!   This one was great.  I loved the challenge of trying to get the treat out.  All I had to do is pull the konk off piece by piece and there was my prize waiting for me.  Tom told mom about the image of german shortaired pointerblack konk which is made for big ferocious dogs.  Tough dogs!  What can I say I must be ferocious and touch because it was no challenge.  Mom went to the pet store and explained her dilemma.  The manager without hesitation told her he had exactly what she was looking for.  He explained that other customers with the same problems raved about this tough tire.  Mom was so excited when she got home.  I waited patiently looking up at her while she fumbled trying to cut all the tags off.  I bounced around in joy while mom went to the bathroom.  I love toys!  Four minutes later when mom came out I sat in the living room waiting for her.  I knew that she would be so proud of me.  Yup, I did.  Mom grabbed the store bag, picked up all the tiny pieces, put a leash on me and to the store we went.  I got to go in to the store with her.  She called the manager, opened the bag, pointed to me and said “Look she is only a little puppy!  She isn’t a Rottweiler or a Pitbull, she’s a small puppy.”  Needless to say, she received an astounded look, an apology and her money back.

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