Obsessive Compulsive Bingo

Fred has some slippers that Mom and Dad bought him for Christmas. They are Crocs. They have a lining. And according to Fred, they are the best slippers EVER. Evidently, these slippers have some sort of magnetic pull on Bingo because he will pass up my cow slippers, my dearfoam slippers and even my plain Jane slippers and go straight for Fred’s Croc slippers. Here's an official look at the Croc Blitzen Polar slipper:



We do not allow Bingo to chew on the Crocs. We always say, “Drop it!” Followed by “Good boy!” He does drop them, then he picks it up again. Followed by another “Drop it!”

Here's a shot of Fred's Blitzen Polar:

[Fred's Blitzen. Oddly, I could only find one.]

[Close-up of Fred's Blitzen.]

[Bingo facing camera but looking right and pretending that he doesn't see the Blitzen on the floor in front of him. Good boy!]

The other morning, Bingo walked into the room carrying the Croc slipper in his mouth. I said, “NO. Drop it.”

Fred said, “Just the other morning I gave Bingo a long talk about how those were my slippers and he wasn’t supposed to chew on them. He has other toys. Why does he always go for my slippers?” There was just that tiny edge of frustration in his voice and a bit of fear for his Crocs.

I shrugged. “He can’t help it. He’s a Croc whore.”

I have to admit I had been waiting a while to spring that line on him. It was finally the right time and I delivered it perfectly. I love it when that happens.