Lightbulb
One of Cali’s Christmas presents last year was a green, rubber lightbulb, which she adores. It is hollow on the inside with an opening at the stem of the bulb making it a very versatile toy; on top of being very squishy and chewable, it also does a great crazy bounce, always flying in an undetermined direction.
Cali is so light on her feet when on our carpet that you never hear her footsteps as she approaches, instead you hear her hollow breath bouncing off the inside of the lightbulb’s walls as she trots all over the house with it in her mouth. She carries it by the stem, so the large bulb end sticks out the side of her mouth and she is always looking for it to be thrown.
One time I was on the floor trying to get something out from underneath the bed and all of a sudden, I felt someone or something poking me in the back. Kind of like when you pretend to hold someone up at gunpoint and stick your finger in their back (as if it were a gun). I screamed so loud because it totally caught me off guard and I just about jumped out of my skin. I turned around to find Cali with lightbulb in mouth and butt in hair, tail wagging–she was ready to play. I burst out laughing.
Then last night as I was trying to pluck my eye brows, I felt this nudge on my leg. When I looked down from the mirror to the floor, there she was with that stupid lightbulb. I wrestled it from her mouth, threw it down the hall, and continued with the plucking. Then five seconds later there it was, the nudge on my leg, and there she was with that bright green lightbulb sticking out of her mouth. I threw it again and away she went trying to catch it in the air with her paws or mouth, both unsuccessful due to the crazy bouncing.
This continued about a dozen times and she kept returning so quickly that I did not have time to do anything but play fetch with her. So I tried to ignore the nudge, which she was persistent about and was not hesitant about doing it repeatedly; then the nudge stopped and she started to drop the lightbulb on the bathroom tile, making the noisy bounce echo. She would catch it and then drop it again to make it bounce yet again. This is cute for about a minute, and then it starts to get annoying. But still I ignored the charade going on at my feet, trying to focus on the tweezing task at hand, until she started to throw it in the air to hit me in the leg, then bounce and tackle it to the ground with her paws. I could not concentrate because I was now chuckling to myself.
So I decided to trade the tweezers for a green rubber lightbulb that does a crazy bounce.
