It's a short story, very simple really, but it has rocked the worlds of my three pooches.
When I was doing laundry, somehow one of their stuffing-less toys got into the wash. It is so old, it no longer has a head or tale, just an empty tube of furred indestructible material. It is, rightly so, the favorite toy. It is loved and tossed high in the air and tug of warred over and snuggled with at night.
But I washed it. Accidentally. When it came out of the dryer, clean, I was shocked. I hadn't realized it was that dirty before, but it's after photo is brilliantly clean.....that is, if I had found the camera and taken a picture.
As it is, you'll have to take my word for it.
So I tossed this washed toy back on the couch, in the pile with the other toys that are being hoarded and take up a full sized person spot, and I became disturbingly aware of how dirty the other toys were......
So I took them all and washed them.
Apparently, part of the love of these toys is their dirtiness. The girls are not pleased. They have sniffed their freshly laundered toys with much disdain and unhappiness.
This does surprise me. Based on their love for diving into a pile of hot from the dryer clothes, I thought they liked clean things.
Their accusing eyes have corrected me of this wrong idea.