We usually have a party (well, it's been an excuse for me to have friends over and make them wear sombreros).
Because of the house being a pig sty and local friends being out of town, we're forgoing a fiesta this year. Actually, now that I think about it, to each of the previous parties, I had invited the woman that I was dating at the time. Both of them flaked out at the last minute, effecting the dissolution of the relationships. Stupid Ex-Cheerleader. Sorry, lousy, stinking Frame Thief. So, I guess I've learned my lesson - actually if a woman isn't willing to wear a sombrero at my dog's birthday party, she probably isn't the right one for me. By the way, no, the dating didn't cease immediately after they skipped out on the party, so please don't think I'm that weird.
Anyway, I got Travis 2 toys as gifts. One is a red rubber chicken that squawks. The other is a crocodile that squeaks.
He loves the chicken. He knocked all the pillows off the sofa while playing. It was his birthday, he threw cushion to the wind.
Travis hasn't touched the other toy. Hopefully, we won't see it show up on The Island of Misfit Toys. "No one wants a crocodile - that squeaks."
Yes, I realize that in the first picture of Travis and the chicken, there are 2 identical pairs of shoes (sometimes, if I like a pair, I go back and buy another one).