We call Honey’s favorite toy Schmoo Bear. It’s a fleece-covered bear that was nearly her size when she came home with us.
Schmoo Bear has served as a pillow, tug toy, and sex object (yup, Honey has been known to hump Schmoo Bear now that she’s a teenager). Our fleecy friend has accompanied us to the beach. To outdoor restaurants. And he has been taken camping.
So why, after all these months, has Schmoo Bear turned on us and tried to kill our sweet little Honey?
Our regular readers know all about Honey swallowing a squeaker from a toy and requiring emergency surgery. You can imagine how the sight of a loose squeaker could cause fear and trembling.
The other night I saw that Schmoo Bear was looking a bit worse for wear. And then I noticed that Honey was chewing something. This time, however, Honey knew the “give” command. And I was able to swap the mystery object for a toy. That mystery object? Schmoo Bear’s squeaker.
I guess he was just biding his time. Being pulled and tugged on. Left outside. Dragged through the garden. Schmoo Bear knew he just had to wait and eventually his squeaker would be free to wreck havoc on an unsuspecting dog.
I’m onto you, Schmoo Bear. Say goodbye. You won’t be threatening my puppy anymore.