The Importance of Being Buster

As part of my ongoing campaign to win Wiley's heart back by buying him a great deal of stuff he probably doesn't need or even want, I recently purchased a Buster Cube. Lily and Zoe, adorable vizslas of my friends B and B, have one and seem to like it. It's a hard plastic cube with a hole in one side that leads to a curvy tunnel interior. You put in treats, shake to distribute them, and the dog has to figure out how to get them out.

The web site touts the Cube as "stimulating" and the packaging claimed it would encourage my dog to use his "problem-solving skills," but I figured Wiley would probably lose interest in it after five minutes.

I was proven wrong.


It's like Doggie Playstation or something. He'll head-butt it, bat it with his paw, stick his snout into the hole and stretch his tongue to try to lick the treats, hold it between his paws and try to chew it apart (not possible, despite his best efforts)... for hours.

Aside from the entertainment value of watching a dog repeatedly head-butt a piece of hard plastic, I like the Buster Cube because it makes him work for his treats. It also gives him a "job" to do, which is supposed to calm anxious dogs down when left alone. So far, since Buster came into our home, I haven't had any comments from the neighbors about him howling when I leave him alone. I don't know if they've just learned to live with it or if he's too busy head-butting Buster, but if you've got an anxious, neurotic dog, I would encourage you to get him his (or her) own Doggie Playstation.