I strive to have an inverse relationship with sadness and happiness. More specifically, the less sadness, the better. More importantly, sharing happiness, even smiles, is destined to markedly improve someone’s day.
I’m grateful to my friend, Shauna Bowling, who introduced me to BarkPost several months back. She knows I love anything of a pooch nature.
Here is a snippet from a recent post...
Welcome to Thank Dog It's Friday (TDIF!), when we dig up our goofiest, most ridiculous stories, just for you. If things don’t get weird, we’re doing something wrong. This week: a slightly over-dramatic reflection on the toys we lost this year.
~ Think your friends would love what we dig up? Refer them to BarkPost Email
If your dog is like the BarkPost dogs, you’ve noticed that treasured toys have a way of getting, well, destroyed. There’s a couple ways you can react when your pup’s favorite toy bites the dust. Personally, we’re big fans of going the melodramatic, over-the-top route with this sorta thing.
With Andy, it’s all about the toys. He can Walk On By treat after treat if there is a toy within eyesight (Thank heavens for Zoey, who is furrever on ‘treat’ duty).
Andy can demolish a toy in mere moments - no matter how well advertised the product is for doggability. I know he is not in isolation with this doggedly determined style of destruction.
I enjoy comments and photos sent to me by my SFAM, Peg Cole. Like me, she has two beautiful Black Labradors, Indy and Tony.
In my mind, Tony and Andy are BFAM - as they share a similar Modus operandi--a penchant for pulverizing their pooch possessions.
So, in answer to BarkPosts post, I react in a mellow-dramatic manner when my mutt mangles his material matters, and I’m often moved to a vocalization of song at an actual or pictorial rendition of the dirty, dawgy deed.
Here are some examples. Thanks to Peg for providing the giggles in the photos she sent.
Click on any of the blue links to take a musical journey inside mar’s head.
I Fall to Pieces, just as soulfully as Patsy Cline (well I think so!) when I see a before-and-after shot like this.
Mr. Beaver, you never stood a chance, but I think you knew that.
Images via Peg Cole of In The World
One Way or Another these dawgs sniff down what they know exists. Personally, I’ve been on so many guilt trips I could fill a passport book.
According to Peg, “Tony is begging for Mr. Dinkleman, which is on the shelf where he can't reach it. Dinkleman is in the toy protection program.”
"I know you're in there, Mr. Dinkleman..."
Image via Peg Cole of In The world
Clearly this young man Ain't Too Proud to Beg.
Peg wrote me:
“The funny thing about Mr. Beaver was that I cut off the mostly undamaged head thinking I would sew it onto a new body in denim. Tony spotted it on my sewing table and sat begging for the head of Mr. Beaver until I realized what he wanted.”
I’m a lover, not a killer (Tony)
Image via Peg Cole of In The World
When Andy saw this, a lightbulb went off.
The Sick Toy Hospital (aka the floor of our hall closet) had been established long before his time, under the reign of Aunt Baby, who fancied herself a nurse (albeit a homicidal one) where her toys were concerned.
Now convinced that his tattered things belong in the Toy Protection Program, Andy allowed the following shot of recent remnants, revealed to be BITS of a bone, PIECES of Miss Pumpkin and SCRAPS of Mr. Shark, and unable to be resuscitated and shown, before the victims were transported to Texas (Oops! I’ve already said too much! You didn’t hear this from me...)
Falling to pieces...
☙ #SmarterNotHarder: Collaborating? Why it’s better to start your doc “inside” Google Drive via flashPress
Until next week, please smile often at unexpected, even sweet, moments in life.
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