Does your Brittany have a toy box?

For the uninitiated, that question sounds like a joke.  To those of us who know, it’s no joke!

I suppose my Brittanys have had an ‘official toy box’ …for as long as I can remember though it has taken different sizes and shapes through the years.  It’s full of all sorts of fun things that a Brittany enjoys.  I’m reminded of the toy box this evening when I returned from chores in town.  I’m reminded because none of the toys are in the toy box, again!  Oh yes, and there are ‘remains’ everywhere.

“Remains” the uninitiated asks?  You know, the in’erds that are now out’erd…the stuffing from a squeaky toy, the nose or some other appendage off of what was a stuffed animal or similar toy.  If I didn’t know better and had walked into someone elses house I would swear they had a destructive pair of twins about 5 years old!

Let’s see, from my easy chair I see a disheveled dog blanket, a big pink stuffed rabbit that my Brittany Sarah sleeps on and would never destroy, the remains of a squeaky stuffed monkey, the squeaker that is now disemboweled, more stuffed toys that are now just a mere lifeless limp rag, shredded paper towels, shredded toilet tissue paper rolls, rawhides of various shapes with varying degrees of depreciation, nice sofa throw pillows that are now thrown on the floor, an e-collar that was NOT part of the toy box but has been dragged out of my office, plastic cups too chewed for human service so they are now part of the canine toy collection, well weathered chew rope, hooves that vary in their level of decimation, an intact purple horse that did not come with a squeaker – hence ‘intact’, a holstein replica stuffed intact squeakerless cow, stuffed bones with no squeaker or at least a now defunct pierced squeaker thus rendering it undesirable to destuff, one well chewed house slipper (done while I was away in Montana – away where I couldn’t protect MY possessions.  Finally, ONE toy remains in the toy basket, the stuffed squeakerless frog.  Ahh and yes, the toy basket is well chewed around the edges.

Now, we can put all of these fine Brittany possessions BACK in the toy box but I assure you, within one hour they will magically reappear scattered about the house as if I had never cleaned up.

The toy box is fun to me.  I enjoy watching our Brittanys go to it, stare in disbelief (as if it is Christmas all over again) that it has miraculously refilled itself, then watch them dive in looking for their favorite whatever.  It is not uncommon to see a Brittany rooting, digging and sniffing for that special something.  It’s quite comical… half a puppy hidden deep in the toy box while the rear half hangs precariously out of the toy box, legs flailing for traction in air, searching for that special something. 

As if on cue, the adult Brittany (Sarah) hears the commotion and comes over to inspect.  Afraid the pup (Tula, Hott Shott, etc.) will take something of importance, she shoves her head deep in the box beside the half buried pup and quickly takes one item then saunters off to enjoy it or possibly lay down and stare at it as if it needs protective custody.  Now Tula jerks her head back and stares at Sarah’s toy and in an instant decides that MUST have been what she was after and now its gone, doggone it Sarah!  Off runs Tula to lodge her formal complaint with Sarah the elder, pleading for favor, hoping intently that Sarah will relinquish the toy out of kindness or lose interest or grow tired from puppy harrassment.  And on and on it goes. 

BTW, Tula got her name from the movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”.   You remember her, the main character whose was self-described  as “Frump Girl”.  My wife and I love that movie.  Tula’s registered name is “Chief’s It’s Greek To Me”.

I can remember saying over 20 years ago that God would grant me a house that remains basically clean and only gathers dust after the children grow up and move out.  Little did I know that we would relish those days later in life and that our Brittanys would bring the job back.

Hmmm, should we clean up the floor before retiring for the evening?  Nah!

Give your dog a toy for me!