As all dog parents do, I went shopping for puppy stuff long before Sherman actually came home to live in the dollhouse. Along with his collar (now far, far too small) and bowls and puppy kibble, I selected a number of squishy toys appropriate for a wee dog. Of those, Sherman’s favourite by far was his monkey.

Before long, much to Sherman’s disappointment, the monkey disappeared. Although he didn’t have button eyes or any other precariously-attached features, Sherman was like any largish puppy and became so exuberant in his play that the monkey’s days were numbered. I stitched a dangling arm back on him once, and retired him after it became clear he would not survive the (dreaded) teething stage. Sherm also liked to play by grasping something in his jaws and shaking it so hard he threw himself off balance and fell over, which meant soft and snuggly toys had to become a thing of his baby days. Sigh. There are days I miss that puppy scent.
The Electrician found the monkey while he was organizing the closet shelf where I store the dog treats and such; he was crammed behind the pig ears I guess. He walked into the living room where Sherman was nearly asleep in his pupison chair, holding the monkey in one hand, and softly said, “look what I found.”
Sherm was out of the chair and prancing in front of my sweetie before I even realized what had been located. When we finally convinced him to sit, the standard practice when we have a toy, a treat, or something else he wants, the speckled pup was so excited I was worried he was going to pee on the hardwood.

When The Electrician finally surrendered Sherman’s long-lost buddy, he gingerly carried the monkey to his chair, hopped inside the bowl, and proceeded to chew on the monkey’s face. I guess that’s the mark of a real friendship. Clearly, Sherman has matured, because he kept his chomps gentle, more of a series of little nips than anything. He’s gone from biting into the toy like a thirsty kid bites into August watermelon to nibbling it like a high-society lady goes after caviar on a cracker. Every now and then, I hear him sigh with deep contentment as he snuggles and chews the monkey.
I haven’t seen Sherman this happy since he learned to lift his leg on trees.
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So, there may be hope yet for Wonderbutt’s beloved toys – and our furniture? Maybe he, too, will learn to be more gentle. Those pics of Sherman are so precious! I will have to show these to Dimples!