$11.00 [A Dog Toy the Size of Your Dog]

Betelgeuse has (finally) fully recovered from last week's sickness.  Thank you for your get well wishes!

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A few weeks ago, we shared a room at La Quinta Inn in Virginia Beach, Virginia with my brother, his lovely girlfriend, and their dog, Rigel.  My puppy nephew has gotten so big!

Rigel had this big plush squeaking bunny dog toy that he just loved.  He would squeak it, shake it, hold it, hump it.  I had never thought to get my little dogs such a big toy, but it was super cute to see Rigel and a Rigel-sized bunny locked in an embrace.  So on our way out of town, I stopped into a pet store to purchase Betelgeuse her own big plush squeaking bunny.  Only this pet store didn't sell big plush squeaking bunnies, so I got her a big plush squeaking blue dog instead.*  She loves it, guys.

And so now we have three dogs ($11).

*  I can't for the life of me find a link to the blue dog on the Internet.  It is difficult to come up with Google search terms for a dog toy that is also a dog.  Let me know if you come up with anything.

$271.99 [Betelgeuse's Holiday Wish List]

Next up:  Betelgeuse's Wish List.

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Dear Santa,

I'm not a complicated dog, but I like what I like, and you know what I like because I growled it in your ear while I sat on your lap.

Clockwise from top left: 10" Aerobie Superdisc, discussed here ($10) | American Kennel Club Hedgehog Dog Toy w. Squeaker, AKC toys discussed here ($5) | Chuckit! The Whistler, Small, 2" diameter, 2-pack, discussed here ($7) | Wagwear Boat Canvas Carrier, Large, because I like being in a bag ($130).

[A note from the author:  Nothing new here.  I was surprised to see that a replacement inflatable playball did not make the wish list.]

Clockwise from top left:  Block of stinky cheese ($10) | Doggles, assorted colors, size SM ($20) | Dirty sock because the only thing better than you taking your sock off and throwing it on the floor is when you take your other sock off and throw it on the floor ($2) | Satin Baby Blanket with cotton filling, 33" x 33" to cover me in the car and protect me from the sun, covered bridges, trucks, etc. ($55)

[A note from the author.  Two themes emerge from these gifts:  (1) protection from the sun and (2) things that stink.

On the first:  Betel hates that big yellow ball in the sky.  Maybe it's because she spent the first four months of her life in a cage with artificial lighting or maybe it's because she has a big fur coat and gets hot easily.  But whatever the reason, she hates the sun.  When we ride in the car, she gets anxious and sometimes even sick unless and until we cover her with something that blocks out all light (for example, our coats or a dark scarf but not a light-colored t-shirt or towel).  Then she lays down and goes to sleep for the rest of the ride.  She's like a parrot.

If nothing else is available, she'll even try to hide under Lulu. 

It would be nice to have something that is not one of our articles of clothing (or our other dog) to keep in the car for these purposes.  The satin side of a baby blanket would be nice and cool for her, but I think something like the Sleepypod Cloudpuff blanket ($30) would work fine too.  Doggles are hilarious, but I'm not sure she would put up with them.

On the second:  Betel is just gross.  She likes eating her own eye goo and cat poop and hanging out with socks and her favorite treat is the stinkiest cheese in the world.  It's just who she is.] 

And, Mr. Kringle, last but not least:

A bag of 140 replacement squeakers ($32.99), my favorite.  Thanks in advance.  I will leave you some dog food.  Oh, and NO CLOTHES PLS THX THAT SUX.  Also please shrink our cat.

<3,
Betel

$16.47 [Chewed]

A few months ago, I learned about the book Chewed, which features 140 color photographs by Arne Svenson and "looks at the comically twisted results of our pets' desire to tear, shred, dismember, eviscerate -- to transform -- their favorite toys."  Excerpts from the book were shared to my delight on The Huffington Post.  See them here.

Like the dogs behind the photographed toys, Betelgeuse -- full of either love or hatred for them (we can't tell, maybe it's both) -- methodically destroys her plush toys.  She chews off any tags, removes the eyes and ears, dismembers the limbs, and, ideally, pulls out and eats the stuffing once the destruction is complete.  (I've already discussed her cloud-like all-stuffing BM before here.)  The end result is magnificent.

So, inspired by Chewed, I embarked on my own photography project while cleaning out the pups' toy box.  Unlike Chewed, however, I did not write stories from the perspectives of the toys -- you'll just have to buy the book for that.

It can be hard to appreciate how loved this rabbit has been without viewing the before photo. Despite Betelgeuse's infatuation with him over the last few years, he still squeaks and his stuffing is intact. What is left of his fur is super frizzy, but he somehow managed to keep his ears.

$3.44 [Puppy Tweets]

Two questions:  What was your least awesome impulse pet purchase? and How crazy are you really?

One answer: Puppy Tweets, in pink. 

In my thirty seconds of reflection before ordering Puppy Tweets on Amazon.com, I decided this would be an excellent purchase.  Puppy Tweets is an electronic dog tag with a sound and motion sensor that sends messages to your computer, then tweets to you.  A device that combines two things I love: dogs and the Internet.  Also, I'm a lawyer and I'm in my office in Manhattan during most waking hours, so I figured this would keep me informed throughout the day about Betelgeuse's comings and goings back in Brooklyn.  And finally, the retail price is $29.99, and it was on sale for $3.44 on Amazon at the time, so I thought I was getting a great deal.

Puppy Tweets, with all its potential, was a major fail.  For one, it turns out that Betelgeuse didn't have anything interesting to say.  The device comes preloaded with 500 tweets.  Betel wore it for one day, tweeted about sixteen times -- which you can see here -- and then I decidedly unfollowed her and removed the Puppy Tweets device and put it in a drawer.  Sorry, Puppy Tweets, but my dog does not like Keanu Reeves, and I don't want to read about her munching on her hindquarters.  Also, the website and packaging report that the device detects movement or barking and tweets accordingly, but really, the tweets came at seemingly random intervals (she tweeted that her nose was stuck in a birdfeeder when we were watching her sleep).  And finally, the device is huge on a small dog, and Betel kept hitting Lulu (who was merely our foster dog at the time) in the face with it when they were wrestling, and Betel didn't even tweet about it.

So Puppy Tweets was a flop, but please don't think for one second that I learned my lesson.  I have had Uncle Milton's Pet's Eye View Digital Camera, which hangs from your dog or cat's collar and takes photos from its point of view, on my wishlist for months.  If it goes on sale, you're going to have the pleasure of seeing a photostream of Lola's automatic pet feeder as she spends most of the day staring at it, waiting for it to dispense, or Lulu's p.o.v. of her various efforts to "bury" bones and treats in the couch cushions.  I'm sure you can't wait.

Update:  I have been informed that some of you actually like Betelgeuse's Puppy Tweets twitter feed.  If you would like me to reconnect the device so that you can follow her absurd Twitter feed written by Mattel employees, leave a comment here or send an email.  Anything for the fans.

~$3.50 [Deflated Playball]

We found this purple 10" Hedstrom inflatable playball in an alley near the East River in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.  Betelgeuse took to it right away.

[Video]

We could never tell if she loved it or hated it.  It was hilarious.  For the last two months, she would bounce this ball off her paws or nose and chase it around the backyard, yapping furiously.  Until last Friday. 

Our latest and greatest doggie houseguest, Bella, arrived on Friday.  And she brought along her giant pitbull jaws and 50 lbs. of muscle.  Within fifteen minutes of her arrival, the reign of the purple ball was over.

We didn't buy the first one, so I shouldn't complain about having to buy the second one.  Except that I will anyway.  These balls are available for purchase for about three or four dollars in big-box and grocery stores throughout most of America.  But Brooklyn is not most of America, and these wire racks are just not going to fit in a bodega.

Unfortunately, on the Internet, the smallest quantity I can find is a 24-pack for $45.99.  Even though the idea of Betelgeuse in the backyard with 24 of these balls is amazing, the reality is a little nutty.  So we'll have to wait for our next trip out of New York to replace the ball.  And then we'll have to try remember to put it up when Bella's teeth come over.

$6.99 [Invincibles Purple Lizard]

There are a lot of dog toys in my apartment.  And I picked most of them.  But Kyler picked this one.

And because his brain is at least one part puppy, this is by far the most popular dog toy in the apartment.  Everydog loves the 6" Kyjen Invincibles Purple Lizard Squeaker Dog Toy.  It has such a hilarious squeak, and it's claim to fame is that it keeps squeaking even when punctured.

Our current houseguest, Bella loves it.

Our prior houseguest, Cheska, loved it.

Lulu loves to secret play with it.  (The photo below has nothing to do with the lizard, but Lulu refuses to be photographed playing with a toy.)

And of course Betelgeuse loves it -- squeaking it, fetching it, chewing it, sleeping with it, whatever.

Cheska and Betelgeuse methodically chewed off most of the spikes in the lizard's crest, but true to the name "Invincibles Purple Lizard," he still squeaks just as good as ever.

$6.99 for the apartment's most popular, least destructible dog toy -- on sale for $5.94 this weekend at Petco.com.

$3.29 [Messes]

Introducing Cheska, a four-and-a-half-month-old Peruvian Hairless puppy, who has been at our homestead for the past week.

Cue paper towels.

Cheska had a less-than-ideal first several months in the world:  born on the streets of Peru, rescued by an elderly couple who decided to bring her to the States, spent a month in quarantine in Costa Rica and then some time with the elderly couple in a small apartment in New York before being adopted by a friend one week ago.  He had to go to L.A. for business one short day after adopting her, so I — who was so encouraging of the adoption in the first place — agreed to care for her while he was away. 

We are on Day 7. 

We have been counting.

Cheska is a bit of a wild animal, on account of her lineage of feral Peruvian street dogs and lack of socialization and training - barking, jumping, erratic on the leash, possessive about people and food, wary of strangers, and approximately 30% housebroken.  Poor thing is also a bit of a mess health-wise.  Like the name “Peruvian Hairless Dog” implies, she is hairless, other than some tufts of hair on the top of her head. But the poor bald fawn is also covered in acne and sores.  She is going to the vet this week, but a Sunday brunch meeting with my vet (and friend) revealed that she probably needs a strong antibiotic and special skincare regimen, along with a skin-scraping to check for mites.

Cheska is growing on us, though, and she has come so far behaviorally in just a week.  She is much calmer than when she arrived and a much better listener.  (And I no longer have to knee her in the chest every five minutes to stop her from jumping and scratching me like I did the first several days, which was pretty terrible.)  We gave her an oatmeal bath and goat's milk lotion rub down, and she wears clothes so that we can more easily be affectionate with her.  She is learning "sit" and getting better at going potty outside and knows now not to chase the cat.  Betelgeuse and Lulu are also helping to teach her some manners.

Unfortunately, she fairly routinely poops and pees in the apartment and in her crate, so we've gone through quite a few bottles of Nature's Miracle, quarters at the laundromat, and let's not forget the paper towels -- $3.29 is the approximate retail price of Viva Choose-A-Size Towels, which, while not being the most environmentally friendly choice, are far and away my favorite absorbent medium for animal messes made by loveable animals.

Challenges with housebreaking are a fact of puppyhood, though, and the most endearing thing about Cheska (other than thinking of her as the offspring of Dobby and Jar Jar Binks) is that there is a puppy inside of there, who just wants to cuddle, chew, and go nuts on a squeaky toy in the backyard.

Cheska is going to be a great dog, but there are going to be struggles to get her there — it’s good that her new owner is up for it.  He is coming for her on Thursday morning.  I will kiss her goodbye on her yucky-but-cute little head and give him some paper towels for the road.  He's gonna need 'em.

$9.99 [Aerobie Superdisc]

I know this little dog named Betelgeuse who cannot live without a 10" Aerobie Superdisc in her life.

My better, saner half has always wanted a dog who can catch a Frisbee.  Betel may never realize his vision, but she will give it her best shot and will also fetch that darn Frisbee over and over until she collapses from exhaustion.  I could have put any number of videos of her with her Frisbee, but I just chose the most recent.  I've written a post in the past about her love of balls, but the Frisbee is the real deal, numero uno, her soul mate in toy form.

She is attracted to most Frisbees, but the standard-sized Frisbee is a little too big for her.  It's both too heavy (give her a break -- she only weighs 11 lbs.) and too tall (it can get caught on the ground when she is running with it in her mouth).  But the 10" Aerobie Superdisc is a perfect size and so lightweight.  It's one of the easiest Frisbees I've ever thrown, and the plastic is resistant to sharp little teeth, even after a good, loving chew.

The disc costs approximately $9.99, but we've gone through several of these in the last few years.  (The first one was a birthday gift from K to me because we love playing Frisbee, which is the equivalent of monkey in the middle for Betel.)  I think we "accidentally" left one of them in Chicago -- Ahem, Icarus, do you know anything about this?*

And one got "lost" in Pennsylvania -- we're looking at you for this one, Abby.

But I guess that just goes to show what a big hit this Frisbee is for the pups in our life.  Highly recommended for the humans, too!

* Photo by CPE, cribbed from her Flickr

$24.24 [Balls]

Betelgeuse's favorite past-time is fetch. You don't even have to command "fetch," just throw a ball, frisbee, or toy, or even shoot a dart from a Nerf gun, and she will bring it back to you. That is not to say that she doesn't have favorite items to fetch, including a favorite Frisbee (because she does -- a 10" Aerobie Superdisc -- the subject of a future post) and favorite types of balls. This particular post is about balls.



Two in particular:
(1) Kong Squeaker Balls, size small (2" diameter), which are soft tennis balls with a squeaker inside. These are her ultimate favorites -- great for catching (bet you didn't know Betelgeuse could catch a 2" ball!), playing fetch inside, or even just for hanging out and squeaking; and
(2) Chuckit! Ultra Balls, size small (2" diameter), which is a hard rubber, high bounce ball. These are great for playing fetch in the open expanses of grass in McGolrick and McCarren Parks because they bounce and keep traveling and don't get waterlogged like the Kong Squeakers.

Today, $24.24 to expand the second category of the Betelgeuse ball arsenal with two goals in mind: (A) preventing ball loss when playing in the parks after nightfall (we've had many a casualty) and (B) throwing the ball even farther with less effort.  In two days (thx, Amazon Prime), Betelgeuse will get her mind blown upon the arrival of two new Chuckit! Max Glow Balls, two new Chuckit! Whistler Balls, and her very own Chuckit! Mini Launcher! I'm not sure which ball choice will result in fewer lost balls: the glow-in-the-dark ball, which she can presumably see, or the whistler ball, which she can hear. Maybe neither because I will be launching them so far that they will land outside of the park and bounce away.

In any event, this will not be the last of my dollars spent on balls -- at least as long as the ball-stealing dogs are alive and well (Roxy, I'm looking at you on this one) and we haven't solved the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle of balls that is the couch's dark underbelly.