He is picky about food, both what he eats and where he eats it; he won’t touch anything outside the house. Since he is diabetic and he needs a full stomach in order to get his insulin, this can require some special planning.
He is also picky about his companions. He will tolerate dogs on the trail who do not attempt to interact with him, but doesn’t permit them in “his” backyard or house without a great deal of vocalizing. It’s the same with humans. He has chosen the one he wants — me — and the rest are pretty much filler.
And he is very, very picky about his toys.
Frankie’s first favorite squeaky toy
Early on in my relationship with Frankie, I discovered Dr. Noyes plush squeaky toys, wondrous playthings with Velcro openings and replaceable squeakers. Frankie selected one toy in particular on which to lavish his affections: A squeaky chile.
As I discovered after several months of intensive use, the squeakers could be replaced but the plush material could not. To my dismay, when I went to buy a new chile, I discovered that the toy had been taken off the market!
I tried to tempt Frankie with a variety of small Dr. Noyes dog toys:
No go. He scoffed at them all.
I am not known for my skill with needle and thread, but my friend Rebecca — a.k.a. Frankie’s rescuer — is not similarly sewing challenged. Knowing my desperate plight, she repaired Frankie’s chile for Christmas:
She did a wonderful job but, as with the original chile, time took its toll. A small plush toy can only be mended so many times.
A wonderful discovery
You know what they say about necessity being the mother of invention. Frankie needed a squeaky toy. He needed it bad.
One day, while I was browsing the aisles of my favorite feed/pet supply store, I realized that Dr. Noyes — by then a division of Kong — made a toy of a similar size and shape to the squeaky chile: The catnip carrot, pictured at the top of the post. It just happened to be designed for a different species.
I thought that, since it featured the same Velcro seal and interchangeable innards, I could adapt the toy for his Frankieness.
The experiment was such a huge success, I thought I would share the process with you. You never know when you’ll have a squeaky toy emergency.
How to Make a Dog Toy Out of a Cat Toy
Set aside the container of catnip, pictured to the right of the carrot; reserve for a deserving cat.
Pluck the feathers from the carrot:
This process is so easy it makes me wonder how many feathers decorate the couches of cat owners who purchase this toy. It also occurred to me that this situation was begging for a practical joke involving a canary, but I decided to grow up and just discard the feathers.
Curse when you realize you don’t have a squeaker.
Crap. I thought I had several small squeakers available. Each Kong dog toy comes with an extra.
Apparently I used up my supply of the carrot sized variety.
But wait! There are a host of non-Kong toys that Frankie has rejected that have squeakers in them. The lack of Velcro access presents a problem, but not an insurmountable one.
Eviscerate old squeaky toy.
Insert gopher squeaker into carrot.
Admire your handiwork.
Interest dog in toy.
Frankie loves his new squeaky carrot, making it all worthwhile.
This is one of the final posts for Will My Dog Hate Me. I hasten to assure you that I will continue to cater to Frankie in the manner to which he is accustomed, even if I don’t write about it.