Say hello to Bongo
Bongo is a staffie/labrador crossbreed, and a rather handsome chap. One of many dogs at the Last Chance Animal Rescue centre, he is also a long-term resident (just as Roxy was). Indeed, every time that we visited the centre, we would make a point of dropping by Bongo's pen. A lively, happy chap, he always had two tennis balls in his mouth. If he happened to drop one, he would then chase after it, retrieve it, and get it back to its rightful place.
In fact, we would like to have taken Bongo on, but he's just too big and boisterous. I hope somebody does take pity on him.
I only mention Bongo because every time Roxy feels like playing with one of her tennis balls, both Julie and myself are immediately reminded of Bongo and the two-ball grin.
As my mother will know, normal tennis balls never last too long with a dog - they are chew toys when fetch time is over, after all. However, most pet shops stock a hardier breed of ball - just don't use them to play tennis, because they will hurt like hell if they hit you.
Mind you, even those balls will not last too long with a determined doggie. Roxy's current ball has developed a weakness, one which means that it sort of folds in on itself to a degree. Unfortunately, this means that a tennis ball which is only just on the right side of 'large enough' is now in danger of being a little too small for safety. Naturally, we are always aware of safety, and Julie happened to notice that Roxy was chomping on the ball a little too much.
That last bit was directed at a husband, whose mind was dallying in the gutter once more...
That said, I went looking for link or images of these tougher tennis balls. It looks like I'm not the only puerile person around...
Showing posts with label toys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toys. Show all posts
Monday, 9 June 2014
The gag reflex
Labels:
being silly,
dogs,
double-entendre,
ewww,
links,
Roxy,
toys
Friday, 4 April 2014
Define 'tidy'...
Moving from Wednesday, when we were discussing the pets of a friend of mine, we go to my friend herself - or, more precisely, one of her daughters.
Sam, it seems has managed to craft and near-perfect the habit of not tidying up after herself. And before you say it, Julie, I know she still won't be as bad as me.
Sharron, Sam's mother, asked her several times to clear away all the toys, books and what have you. Asked, cajoled, ordered, and commanded. In the end, in fear of tripping over something and hurting herself, Sharron gave in to the inevitable and did it , as mothers all-too often do.
Naturally, Sam can tell the difference between a cluttered, messy room, and a tidy one. Not that she commented upon it when she came home from school. Even when her mother raised the subject, Sam remained unimpressed.
...somebody pass me a dictionary, please. I think I've been getting it wrong all this time...
Sam, it seems has managed to craft and near-perfect the habit of not tidying up after herself. And before you say it, Julie, I know she still won't be as bad as me.
Sharron, Sam's mother, asked her several times to clear away all the toys, books and what have you. Asked, cajoled, ordered, and commanded. In the end, in fear of tripping over something and hurting herself, Sharron gave in to the inevitable and did it , as mothers all-too often do.
Naturally, Sam can tell the difference between a cluttered, messy room, and a tidy one. Not that she commented upon it when she came home from school. Even when her mother raised the subject, Sam remained unimpressed.
...somebody pass me a dictionary, please. I think I've been getting it wrong all this time...
Friday, 30 September 2011
The kids are alright. Well, mostly...
Hola and happy weekend (with all due apologies to those of you working Saturday and Sunday).
Today, we have another guest slot, courtesy of the daughters of a friend. You have met one of them already in this post. Today, she makes a repeat appearance and brings her younger sister with her. T is only four, so some allowances can be made, but we can still have a chuckle and say "Awwwww" fondly, can't we?
One day, the two girls were playing with their dolls; naturally, the dolls all have their own outfits and accoutrements, according to whatever scenario takes the girls' fancy. On this occasion, T was readying one doll and packing some clothes into a small bag. When she was done, she announced...
If it wasn't a word before, it jolly well is now! Mind you, she could have come up with something a little easier for me to type...
Ah well.
More recently, the older sister, S - who is six - woke up one morning with something of a stiff neck. It was fairly severe, in that she couldn't simply move her head from side to side to free it up. Instead, when S wanted to look at something to the side, she had to swivel her whole body around and look at it that way. I'll tell you something, I think S explains it much better...
We all know what S meant, but doesn't that conjure up such a wonderful image? Slightly reminiscent of Worzel Gummidge in a way...
Today, we have another guest slot, courtesy of the daughters of a friend. You have met one of them already in this post. Today, she makes a repeat appearance and brings her younger sister with her. T is only four, so some allowances can be made, but we can still have a chuckle and say "Awwwww" fondly, can't we?
One day, the two girls were playing with their dolls; naturally, the dolls all have their own outfits and accoutrements, according to whatever scenario takes the girls' fancy. On this occasion, T was readying one doll and packing some clothes into a small bag. When she was done, she announced...
If it wasn't a word before, it jolly well is now! Mind you, she could have come up with something a little easier for me to type...
Ah well.
More recently, the older sister, S - who is six - woke up one morning with something of a stiff neck. It was fairly severe, in that she couldn't simply move her head from side to side to free it up. Instead, when S wanted to look at something to the side, she had to swivel her whole body around and look at it that way. I'll tell you something, I think S explains it much better...
We all know what S meant, but doesn't that conjure up such a wonderful image? Slightly reminiscent of Worzel Gummidge in a way...
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