The Floor Is Empty, And All The Toys Are Here

Barley, a dog, sleeps atop a heap of plush dog toys, on a dog bed, all crammed onto a futon.

There’s a great deal of unevenness is Barley’s toy preference. The toy she chooses to thrash when she’s feeling feisty tilts heavily toward those that are floppier and fuzzier, and the mere act of thrashing tends to spread toys out, pushing the less popular candidates off into corners. As such, there is no natural scenario in which her toys will become heaped in one place; such stacking is instead some contrived move on my part, a Deus Ex Vacuo when it’s time to clean the carpet. Despite never arranging them in this way herself, Barley’s a big fan of these heaps when they happen, and will plop herself down right on top of them all to snooze for as long as the heap endures.