Tough love

Why do we hurt the things we love?

It’s a difficult question. And, I don’t have the answer. I love my toys, but I am the first (or second if Mauly gets to it first) to tear them. Destroy them is a more accurate description.

The boot is the latest victim in our household. It’s a plastic cowboy boot with white accents. The boot is emblazoned with a black paw. It’s a dog’s boot. It’s squeaks. It fits nicely in Mauly’s mouth.

A few months ago, Mom retrieved it from a box labeled “Eddie’s Toys.” It was a great Christmas present from my human cousin, Rosa.

Mauly loves the boot. She finds it and carries it in her mouth. She licks it. She bites it. She drops it next to her before she falls asleep.

This week, love turned to destruction as Mom discovered a small, black chunk next to Mauly. The boot now has a hole. It is sitting next to the iMac, while Mom decides what to do with it.

Mauly likes to nuzzle Mom’s hand with her nose. It’s all a ruse as Mauly works it so Mom begins petting her. Mom stops her typing and gives Mauly attention. Mauly hopes to gain access to the confiscated toy on the desk. It's that simple.

I’m not sure what will happen to the boot, but I can guess. Once there is a hole in a toy, it’s pretty much gone. Mauly has first-paw experience in this area. She lost a duck and a pheasant or two or three to holes.

The truth is that the boot is a goner, if we get our paws and teeth on it. We won’t stop until the hole gets bigger. Mom tries to watch what we eat. Plastic is not on the menu, she says. But, we bark back, “It’s what we do — we are dogs.”

Since I’m older than Mauly (about six months older), I know the boot’s days are numbered in our house. I’ll just remember the boot fondly. It was a good friend.