Last Sunday, Scotto and I strolled through the aisles of the IGA in a leisurely fashion when I abruptly stopped in front of a stand holding a stuffed, rainbow coloured, unicorn.
“I would buy this for Pablo the Chihuahua, however I know the little b#stard would rip it to pieces and then I’d have to pick up fluff for the next week,” I sighed, picturing in my mind the unfortunate “stuffed reindeer” incident last Christmas.
Pablo destroys every stuffed animal we buy for him. Firstly he blinds the creature by gnawing out its eyes, then he lovingly maims it in a slow, torturous manner, one ear/limb at a time.
Finally the blameless effigy is disembowelled, beheaded and at last quartered, just as William Wallace was so violently executed by King Edward’s loyal soldiers.
“We should buy this for Celine,” Scotto announced, picking up a quite large rubber ball.
Celine eschews baby toys of the stuffed variety but adores anything bouncy.
I felt a bit guilty arriving home with only one present for one dog, but that’s what happens when you are a brutal, homicidal slayer of innocent, stuffed toys; you miss out.
To mention that Celine has been taking pleasure from her gift would be a gross understatement. I'm beginning to think the unicorn might have been a better option.
This is what we have had to put up with each and every evening…