She will chew a Nylabone. But only when it’s fresh from the packaging and smelling of faux meat.
She will nuzzle a Kong. But only when it’s been loaded with “not on her diet” Milk Bones.
These items are not toys to Sherbert; they are food sources, life lines.
That doesn’t mean Sherbert didn’t have toys.
We fruitlessly bought her a rope toy which is hard to chew with only molars and two eye teeth. Our bad.
Someone bought her a fuzzy ball made of felt. We would roll it past her when we got bored.
And I play tennis. I play the kind of tennis where you have to open a new can of balls for every match. Sherbert was not interested in my tennis balls.
So imagine our surprise when I took Lunchbox to play with another dog and he spent the whole time playing catch. With a frisbee. Without any treats involved.
And then he expressed interest when I rolled a tennis ball by him.
And the rope toy? Destroyed.
In fact, Lunchbox is never far from a toy, as the above pictures indicate. I’ve been known to collect all his play things and lay them out nicely in a row in front of him when his ankle biting reaches epic proportions.
We, now, have a dog who plays with toys. It’s a miracle.