I’ve had pets all my life. And none of them has ever really cared about toys. Toys that came from stores that is. I’d buy all those cute little pet toys — toys that other people told me their cat, dog, rabbit or ferret just loved — and my pets would barely spare a glance.

Instead, my pets preferred things just lying around the house. My dogs loved old running shoes or socks.

Sometimes I’d get some of my dogs to play Frisbee or to fetch a ball. But, it never worked like on all those animal shows where the dog actually brings the ball back.

It’s not that some of my dogs didn’t or don’t like tennis balls — but they don’t really play with them or if they do they won’t let ME have my turn with the ball. My dogs come right at me, make a couple of fake dodges and fly around me as I fall on my rear end trying to untangle myself. They carry them around it seems not to play with — just to have.

My cats prefer window blind pulls, old bits of string or buttons or those sandwich bag ties to bat around. Pet store cat toys they’ll slap once maybe twice if I’m lucky and then never look at them again.

And Jackie, my ferret, completely ignored all the cute ferret toys I hung in his cage. What he loved and carried around like a trophy was a purple tennis ball. He carried it all over the place, dangling from his mouth with his little teeth clamped tight in tennis ball skin or he’d roll around on it tossing it in the air with his back legs.

Years ago, I had a little dog Sassy, a terrier dachshund mix who got attached to a little yellow rubber duck like thing that squeaked. It always reminded me of a plucked chicken. Sassy took it everywhere with her and panicked if, God forbid, I should ever forget it when we left the house. But this was not a toy — it was her baby. She would nudge it down and put it in nursing position. She made nests for it and carried it very gently in her mouth. I can’t count the number of times I sent Sassy into a frenzy when I’d accidentally sit on it when she left it on the couch. Early on, before I understood the nature of her “relationship” with the ugly little bird, I’d toss it across the floor thinking Sass would play fetch with me. Sassy would look at me with such outrage as she streaked to get her “baby” and tuck it away somewhere so I couldn’t find it. I came to understand the bird was not a plaything.

When I got my first greyhound, greyhound people told me how much greyhounds loved toys. I thought, at last a dog who loves toys as much as I do. I’m embarrassed at the amount of stuffed toys I bought for Nakai’s homecoming. She didn’t even look at all those cute stuffed animals I’d gathered with such enthusiasm. Instead she stole one of my old T-shirts to carry around when she wasn’t using them as a snuggle blanket. I had a little more hope for my next greyhound, Bella. That hope was short lived. Though very playful and joyful, Bella prefers hats. She’s afraid of squeaky toys.

But then Velvet, my greyhound from the prison program, came to live with me. Velvet absolutely adores stuffed squeaky toys. She takes them to bed with her at night, keeps them close by when she’s sleeping. She actually plays with them, tosses them up in the air and catches them. And she lets me toss them in the air so she can catch them. Now when I’m in pet stores, I have to stop myself from buying her (us) one more toy.

I’ve learned over the years that animals use what’s available and don’t need special toys in order to play with abandon and joy. Sometimes the simplest things can make us the happiest if we only let them. Watching animals play always manages to lift me up and make me smile.

n Hey, 2nd Chance Prison Program has 13 beautiful greyhounds who are ready to be released from prison and adopted Jan. 11. Call (765) 278-9435 or go to www.IndyPrisonGreyhounds.org. for more information.

(Maleah Stringer, president of the Animal Protection League, is an animal massage therapist specializing in esoteric healing. She can be reached at maleahstringer@aol.com.)