The KONG Wobbler Did Not Wobble Long

The KONG Wobbler arrived in a box the size of a toaster. It was red. It was round at the bottom. It had a hole on top for treats. The instructions said to fill it with kibble and let the dog knock it around. Mental stimulation, they said. The dog looked at it once. Then the dog looked at me. The dog walked into the other room and laid down. That was the first and last time the Wobbler was used as intended.

BW said to leave it out. Maybe the dog would warm up. (BW is always right about people. She is less right about dogs.) I left it on the kitchen floor. For three days it sat there. The child found it on day four. She picked it up. She shook it. Nothing came out because I hadn't filled it. She shook it again. She put it on her head. She walked around the kitchen asking if she was a traffic cone. I said yes. She was a very good traffic cone.

Then she threw it. Not at anything. Just threw it. The Wobbler hit the baseboard and wobbled exactly once. A single, pathetic wobble. Then it stopped. I think that wobble was its last dignified moment. The child stared at it. She picked it up again. She carried it to the garage. I should have stopped her. But it was quiet in the house and I was reading the news.

Twenty minutes later she came back with the Wobbler and a Sharpie. The Wobbler now had a face. Two eyes. A smile. Also a blue mustache. The hole on top was now a hat. The Wobbler was no longer a dog toy. It was a character from a cartoon the child watched once. The child named it Bob.

Bob lived under the couch for two months. Then the child found Bob again. She put Bob in the freezer. I found Bob next to the frozen peas. Bob was cold. I put Bob in the sink to thaw. BW asked why the KONG was in the sink. I said it was called Bob now. BW said the dog is scared of Bob. I looked at the dog. The dog was under the dining table, watching Bob. The dog was not scared. The dog was judging.

Bob currently lives in the back of the pantry behind the rice cooker. The child has forgotten about Bob. But Bob knows. Bob waits. Every time I open the pantry I see that Sharpie smile. I close the door. The dog is still in the other room. THE DOG NEVER WANTED MENTAL STIMULATION. The dog wanted to sleep.

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