Toy boy

SO it seems the old boy is finally getting his act together, in doggie terms at least. I’ve had two squeaky toy presents in the past week – or, actually, three.

He drops gentle hints to guests – he’s so subtle – that his dog has very few toys and then people start to get competitive.

Because the hotel is very busy, for once the old boy splashed out all of  85 cents in the local Chinese supermarket on a squeaky hedgehog for me.

It amuses me that he leaves the price tag on, trying to impress.

By chance, another hedgehog arrives from a guest the next day. So kind!

And doubly pleasant was the look on my master’s face when he realised he’d spent
85 cents unnecessarily. Just call me ‘two-hedgehog Ed’.

But it gets better … in the form of a squidgy, furry rabbit that arrived with some other regular guests this week. And this was no 85 cent bunny. This was your deluxe end of squeaky toys, and I am talking serious tail-wagging here.

Soft in the mouth – a dog can only put up with plastic for so long before the flavour
palls – and wait for this – with eight separate squeakers inside. Call me ‘eight-squeaker Ed’.

Sadly, bunny’s life expectancy is short. I have been chewing long and hard and, at the last count, the number of ears was down to one and the number of squeakers similarly halved.

Who brought me this latest bunny delight? Why, Alan and Katie Bunn of course!

Wish the old master had as much of a sense of humour!