Case in point . . . le chew toy (aka the Tug Bone).

If you are even the tiniest bit familiar with me, you’ll know about my ~~slightly~~ obsessive tendencies regarding design and color and and the melding of form and function. So you can imagine my glee when I stumbled upon this beauty in the clearance isle at my local pet store . . .

” Behold the symmetry of the classic bone shape, lovingly stitched with thick yet softly brushed leather, coupled with cotton and jute chew pulls perfectly proportioned and subtly striped . . .

Could anything be more perfect to match the interior of our Betty, and it’s sized just right, and it has loops for hanging, and it’s washable, and the textures are fab, and it’s made from natural and sustainable materials, and . . . can you tell how enamored I am with it . . .

So I rushed it home and joyfully presented it to le Alfie who took one look at it, sniffed it from afar and then with much aplomb twirled around and went swishing off into another room – sans chew toy . . .

Undeterred . . .

I placed the Tug Bone in Alfie’s toy box hoping to see him explore it at his leisure. [Um yes, don’t even pretend your furry friend doesn’t have a toy box, basket, or, in some extreme cases, room filled with their own favorite companions].

My desire for him to bond with it was so strong that I even tried to show my own interest in said Tug Bone – hoping to peak his curiosity as I squealed delightedly about all the fun I was having romping awkwardly on the floor tossing it in the air and pouncing on it pulling it this way and that . . .

All the while the Alfinator stared at me with half lidded eyes and an air of disdain regarding my apparently uninspiring display . . .

And so the Tug Bone sits, nestled in with other toys who’s favor comes and goes as he sees fit. No rhyme or reason as to what makes a toy good or bad from one day to the next. There’s always hope that maybe, just maybe, it will become the trusted toy companion that lives with Betty and joins us on our travels.