Opal did not have 22 toys as she grew up and was put to work as a mill breeder dog. The entire concept of toys is still, more than a year after being saved from that environment, a joyful wonderment.
When she first joined us, my Sparkling Girl chewed everything she could that contained a scent...pillow cases, socks, towels. Over time, she has learned the suggestion, "Go get a toy, Opal. You can chew all you want on one of your choice."
And now she does it as part of her routine. First thing in the morning as she supervises my dressing, she hurries over to the toy box for a chewable. Across the day, she adds to collection in the bedroom until she lies in the middle of a chewer's smorgasbord. The rest of the White Dog Army walks around or through to use the dog door; they nestle and rest within Opal's toy landscape. At bedtime Steve gathers the collection and Opal follows him to return the toys to their crates...
...so they are ready for the morrow.
|In the bedroom the floor is strewn with Opal's addiction close at hand whether she lies on the pink mat, the white pad, or just sprawls across the floor at the end of the bed.|
|Stormer and Sachi try to ignore Opal's "mess" as she sorts the toys from their storage crates.|