A Good Boy’s Guide to Squeaky Toys

My dog, Canoli, arrived from Cancún, Mexico, in April 2020. I applied to adopt him, but sadly, I was too late. A family had picked him up that morning.

Twelve hours later, they returned him: he nipped the kids. I picked him up in full pandemic gear. Remember how cautious we were back then?

And yes, he nipped. Ow! He still bites if you come to my house. And who can blame him? He got off to a rocky start. X-rays show he has damage on his back legs.

Want to know more? Well, here’s Canoli to tell you his story in his own words.(To be read with a Mexican accent.)

A Good Boy’s Guide to Squeaky Toys--A Memoir of a Mexican Street Dog

Rescue dog Canoli shares his toy-filled journey from parking lot pup to spoiled companion.

A heartwarming short story from the perspective of Canoli, a spirited rescue dog from Cancún. Follow his journey through hardship, healing... and squeaky toys.

Once, I had no toys—except the things people threw at us. We barked as we ran and hid, but when the people left, we played with the plastic water bottles. They made great crunchy noises, but one cracked and pinched my tongue. It really hurt.

We had to be very careful where we played. The parking lot we lived in was full of broken glass. My sister cut her paw and got very sick.

Then children came and took me home with them.“¿Podemos quedárnoslo, papi?” “Can we keep him, Daddy?”

They gave me a stuffed toy, but when I ripped it to shreds and peed on it, I got kicked. Kicked so hard I couldn't walk for many days. I also got kicked out—back to the parking lot for me. Bye-bye, little niños. Please don't cry.

Then I got very sick, and a lady took me to a place with many dogs and cats. I had no toys again, just a cage with a cement floor and lots of barking perros. After many days, I got well again.

Sometimes we played in a group. That was fun—until one of the big dogs started growling. Then I was glad to go back to the little cage, even if it was boring.

One day, I got switched from my metal cage to a plastic one. I knew it was plastic because it smelled like a water bottle.

For a long time, they locked me in a loud, shaking room. Some other pups from the shelter cried and barked. Not me. I just lay down and slept as best I could. I was the only one of all the dogs that didn’t mess their cage. That was a lesson I’d learned.

Messing anywhere but outside got you a mean kick. I’m not a fan of feet even now and will bite feet if given the chance.

Then I went to a house. It was warm inside, but outside was cold, and there was wet white stuff on the ground. They had a Mexican rescue dog already, and she taught me some English.

They had lots of toys, and we played and played. Only a few days later, I was taken to another home—one with small children. I like to play with small children. But only a few hours later, they brought me back because I nipped, they said.

A few days later, a Señora came to the foster house. She wore gloves and a mask and kept her distance from everyone. But she seemed to like me and took me home.

Señora Gina has a big backyard, and a lot of soft places to nap. It’s my home now.

I have lots of toys. My favourite toys are the ones she puts treats in. I love treats.

I really love a fabric ring that squeaks, and we play tug with it. We tugged it so much that it’s no longer a ring. Oops.

Yes, I nipped, but nothing terrible happened. And yes, I ripped my toys to shreds, and nobody kicked me.

I had trouble telling what were my toys and what weren’t, so I accidentally chewed shoes and ripped towels. I dragged clothes out onto the lawn. But nothing bad happened. Nobody kicked me.

It’s a long time later, and I have my own toy box now. All us good dogs do. I love my orange ball, my blue ring, my squeaky rope, and a tasty piece of deer antler from my friend Murphy’s toy box.

I still bite feet, so Mom sends me away when people visit—but I don’t mind. My dog sitter’s dog, Grommet, has an enormous box of toys, and he lets me play with them.

I don’t like balls or frisbees because people used to throw things at me when I was little, but I do like a good plush toy. Not for long, though! Oh, no. Stuffing everywhere.

Yes, I know not to eat it. Or the plastic squeaky thing.

My favourite toy, though, is still the squeaky fabric rope. I think I’ll go play with it now.

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I wrote this story for a little writer group at my local senior centre. It's based on Canoli's history and behaviour, and my own experience volunteering at a Mexican animal shelter in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. As you may know, Canoli is the inspiration for Agatha Shadewell's dog in THE UNLIKELY MURDER CLUB series. If you haven't already downloaded the free prequel, Agatha's First Murder, grab a copy here.

Feeling at home now. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥