The other day we were out thrifting (actually I was sort of tagging along) and while Liz picked and poked through various assorted finds, I was drawn briefly to the wall of discarded toys. In all of its colorful glory, there’s still something a bit somber about a mass collection of mostly broken playthings, enjoyed for a time, but now dirty and forgotten, living out their last hopeful moments in thrift purgatory. But salvation awaited one item that I was shocked and delighted to see, smiling out in familiar joy: a Snausage treat jar. Yes, not exactly a toy, but to the eye of a thrift store employee, a rose by any other name, I guess.
One had to actually send away for this thing via so many UPCs and addtional cash, waiting so many weeks for it to be shipped. But with two properly installed AAs, a lift of the head issues forth a comical little expression of “snausages!”. Filled with the right doggie treat, the jar made for a nice pavlovian apparatus that would bring my dog Marty running and barking. Ben K. often enjoyed torturing Marty this way.
So you’re wondering, why would I want to now own two of these things, especially when I don’t currently have a dog? Who knows. It was a buck. And it’s still fun. I can only imagine though, setting them both off might have made Marty’s head explode.