Like many pet owners, I spoil my furry kids. I'm always trying to find stuff to give them to make them happier than they already are. I feel like I owe them at least that for all they give me. Tank, my handsome Corgi/Aussie cross, loves squeaky toys. He loves to bite down on whichever one is closest at hand (paw) about 976 times in row to make it squeak over and over until my head explodes and I leave the area. At some point in the life of the squeaky toy, he has to get the squeaky thing out of it and then tear out all the stuffing making sure he disperses it all over the house. It's a talent I wish he didn't have but at Christmas someone always gives him a new squeaky toy. Not I.
Maizy, my tiny girl Corgi, loves it when I get big beef bones, cook them up in the oven for a bit, let them cool, and then give her one. Usually I have to carry it out to the yard for her because just about any beef bone is bigger than her mouth. She will spend hours just gnawing on one and periodically barking at nothing, or growling at Tank if he even looks her way. While I cannot provide snow, I know snow is her favorite thing in the world. She will make Corgi angels all over the yard. Every once in a while, she will stop, look at me with a big grin and do more. It's pretty adorable.
Little Zoe, my 9 year old tabby, loves to read with me. She's done with toys now that she's older. I am her person and every night when I get in bed, I pick up a book and she appears out of nowhere. She finds her happy place on my legs and settles down, The second I move, because it's either time to turn off the light or I have a muscle cramp from not moving, she leaps onto the floor, eats a little food and comes back to resettle.
And then we have the Q-Tip Kid. My now 8 month old Calico kitty, Phoebe. She is easily entertained by just about anything. Still, I bought her a whole bunch of little stuffed mice and shiny balls that she has distributed all over the house. It's not unusual to see one of those things go whizzing by, followed by the streak that is Phoebe in hot pursuit.
I should not have been surprised when I was sitting in bed with Zoe and Phoebe was making a big ruckus in the bathroom. I've learned to ignore it because I know she is playing at or with something fun. What I didn't know was she had tipped over the garbage basket in there and taken everything out and was playing with the Q-Tips. She came walking towards me with one sticking out of her mouth like a cigarette. She then threw it up in the air, batted it around, and pounced on it. This went on for some time. I was mesmerized that something so simple could provide so much entertainment.
The next day I stepped on the scale and nothing happened. I tried again and nothing happened. I picked up the scale and found about 15 Q-Tips on the floor under it. Instantly, Phoebe jumped into the middle of them and scattered them everywhere. The Q-Tips were getting away and she had to corral them again. She looked at me, then at the scale, and I got the message. Put. The. Scale. Down.
I did and then bent down and put all the garbage back into the basket except for the Q-Tips. Why take away all her fun? Plus I didn't really want to weigh in anyway. As I brushed my teeth, I watched her play, play, play. Q-Tips were flying everywhere. I honestly don't know who was more entertained.
While I may live alone, I am never lonely. Every day is enriched by these unique and quirky kids. They keep me young and provide endless entertainment. As I wrote in my book, in the story When I Come Back, I do want to be one of my furry family. I'm sure I would be just as entertaining because they have been great teachers.