Toyland

This is my largess. My wonderful toys: my first present ever - a holiday ball, my somewhat chewed and now soundless meadowlark, my undauntedly noisy but very chewed loon, my new and wonderful squirrelly Squirrel given to me by my Best Friend, my holiday flying saucer and my Person's glove. (Don't tell her about that last one - she thinks she left it in a restaurant.)

You'd think with such lovely toys I would be the most popular little red dog on the block if not the entire world. But I have had to make my own fun today, ignored at every turn, even when I sat at my Person' knee, Squirrel dangling enticingly from but one tooth, ready to be snatched from me and the chase begun. No go.

I have tried to get the cats to play but they simply cannot understand the concept of tug-o-war. They think toys are to be pounced on, batted and then ignored. They think play is a prelude to killing something! It is a wonder I can sleep at night with those slinky would-be murderers looking for entertainment.

The thing about little red dogs is they never give up. Tomorrow I will try again to engage my Person is some much needed fun. That is, if I make it through the night!