Chloë Silences Another Toy

My pal Penny came over to play a couple of times over the holidays. We did some wrestling in front of the football game (or was it basketball?), and we took a long walk in the park. Penny doesn’t get there every day like I do.

Chloë and Penny take a break from hiking.

Penny even gave me a Christmas present, although Mike didn’t let me open it until the decorations were put away. With my antlers, the Santa Monkey and Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer already demanding constant attention, I can understand Mike’s reasoning. He proved to be correct, by the way, because I fixated on Penny’s gift the instant Mike took it out of its packaging. It’s a toy called a MushABelly, which is clearly a derivative of Furby.  I’m calling mine Urby, because it’s not quite Furby.

Chloë’s Urby

Urby arrived with great fanfare of its own making, because loud, obnoxious laughing and cackling came out of Urby every time I touched it. And I touched it a lot. Within  a couple of hours, Urby wasn’t laughing and cackling anymore, nor are its vocals likely to ever return. But I still like gnawing and sucking on Urby, a lot. Each night I give it up reluctantly at bedtime and seek its last resting place as soon as I emerge from my crate the next morning. I carry it into the kitchen when I eat and into the office when I’m napping in there. Urby is my constant companion.

Mike and Heather don’t like Urby, however, and it’s easy to see why. After I carry Urby around and suck on it for a while, Urby’s orange “fur” gets pretty slimy, much more so than any of my other toys. In fact, Slimy might be a better name for Urby. Heather won’t touch Urby at all, while Mike tried to hide it from me permanently as soon as he discovered how gross Urby was going to be (like how Urby goes “splat” when he tosses it and it hits the floor). Luckily, Mike gave in as soon as he saw how avidly I searched for it, and he gave Urby back to me: Apparently it’s my party and I’ll cry if  I want to really works. So for now, Mike tries to ignore my solicitations to play fetch with Urby, or if goaded into playing, he picks it up gingerly, with only two fingers barely touching its wings or ears.

Chloë applies mouth-to-brain resuscitation to Urby.

I’m not sure how long my total fascination with the slimy Urby will last. In the meantime, I’m planning to take Urby back into the bedroom for a nap and then leave it there on Heather’s pillow. I’m sure she’ll love me for it.