Hound Play

Dwight, you haven’t shown much interest in toys, despite having a basket full of play things in various colors, shapes and textures. One stretches for tug of war. Most of them squeak. One is a twisted, braided rope designed for flossing teeth. There’s even a big red rubber toy, open at one end, where treats can be hidden. You couldn’t be bothered.

Many say that hounds don’t know how to play. Nonsense, I say. Everyone likes to play. I try to teach you. I squeak a toy, dangle it in front of your face, drag it across the floor, teasing you to play. You just look bored. However, leave the laundry room door open and you will snoop through the basket, grab a sock and leap through the house, wanting me to chase you. Teaching me your game. It is fun, Dwight, but I have enough trouble keeping up with socks. We must find another amusement. I keep buying you different models and designs of toys, based on Google’s recommendations, but none entice you.

Until, Little Dino. I bought him from the sale bin at the check out at Petco. He is blue, floppy, no stuffing, nubby on the outside, crinkles when held and has a squeaker in his belly. I christened him Little Dino because he has plates, like a stegosaurus, running the length of his back, a long tail, and short T Rex arms. I think he may be a dragon though, as he has two raised nostrils on his snout, for breathing fire. No matter, he will always be Little Dino to you and me, Dwight. You have adored him since he arrived to your world. You know his name and you care for him in the oddest ways.

You sleep with him

You carry him from room to room, until he finally settles down somewhere. You take him for a walk every morning. Sometimes you even bury him. But only for a while. Little Dino always comes back in, sometimes not until bedtime.


Once, while I was upstairs, you dragged a folded tablecloth off the dryer and made a bed for Little Dino under the kitchen table.


You even put his head on a decorative wooden block , that you swiped from the bookcase. I wonder if you were blaming him for the stolen goods.


I am so glad you have Little Dino to take care of, sleep with, and even play with. Watching your adventures with him warms my heart.  Hound play.Thank you for showing me this, Dwight.

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