Here's Lagniappe, enjoying the day with his prized possession, a stuffed squeaky hedgehog.
Now I do not begrudge Lagniappe his favorite stuffed buddy. I just wish that he'd keep better track of it. You see, this dog loves that hedgehog so he carries it around with him frequently as he roams about the house. And that's all well and fine, but every now and again, he sets it someplace and wanders off, and then I stumble across it, usually in some of the strangest places.
As a prime example, I just found it in my master bath shower.
Seriously, what was a stuffed hedgehog doing in my shower? I can't figure it out and neither Lagniappe or the hedgehog are talking.
But that's not the only place it turns up. I often find it upstairs in my guest room, or sometimes in the gun room. Usually if it's not in the living room, it's in my bedroom on Lagniappe's dog bed, but a couple of times I've found it up on MY bed.
Uh-huh...Just levitated itself up there, did it? It must have, because Lagniappe knows he's not allowed up there.
Sometimes it sneaks outside onto the deck, which is wrong because it's an inside toy, not an outside toy. (There is a difference. Basketballs are outside toys, fine for playing with in the mud. Stuffed animals...not so much.) But every now and again, dog-unclear-on-the-concept will try to run out with his hedgie or in with his flat muddy basketball. He always looks miffed when I foil him and redirect the toy back to where it belongs.
But the hedgehog is nothing if not sociable. Often when I'm downstairs at my workbench, it will come bounding down the stairs all by itself, and the laziest dog ever will be standing at the top of the stairs, looking down expectantly and waiting for me to stop what I'm doing and throw it back up to him. This is, of course, a trick. As soon as I toss it back up, he'll throw it back down, sort of a "fetch in reverse" game. And of course if I try to nap on the sofa, I can almost expect to be smacked in the face eventually by a stuffed hedgehog, usually soaked with dog spit. It's a rule around here that you lie down at his level at your peril and the penalty is several rounds of "throw-the-hedgehog, throw-it-again!" Failure to comply is punished by the repeated application of the aforementioned wet hedgehog to your face.
And in spite of all of this nonsense and K9 tomfoolery, every few months, when he's literally loved his hedgehog to pieces, I go to Petsmart and pony up fifteen bucks or so for a new one. If he's ever noticed that his best pal regenerates itself every now and again, he's never given any indication that he cares. He loves it no matter what, and because it gives him so much joy, I just put up with it.