I was never a big fan of Barbies. Shocking I’m sure. I liked a lot of “boy” toys. I had Transformers, Hot Wheels and action figures. I had this great Jeep that my action figures drove.  My dad had a Jeep so it was like my very own version that I could play with in our living room.

Then, during a summer BBQ, I played with a new friend and she showed me her “Mowboo Barbie” a.k.a. Malibu Barbie.  I must have been about three years old.  And I thought this toy was the toy to end all toys.  I had to have it.

I spent the next few days after the BBQ repeating “Mowboo Barbie” like a crazed parrot. My parents tried to decode what I was trying to say. They finally took me to Toys “R” Us and we walked the aisles.  It was then that I spotted and pointed out the Malibu Barbie on a shelf. My parents sighed and repeated the real name to me. “Oh, Malibu Barbie!” I shook my head, agreeing with them and  smiling from ear to ear. They bought me my new prized toy and we headed home.

For the next week, Mowboo Barbie went everywhere with me, including the front basket on my bike. She rode along with her hair flowing in the wind, as I did donuts in our driveway in front of our garage.

Then, my dog ruined it all.

I was an only child so my pets were my siblings. I loved my big yellow lab, Jake, so much, just like a brother.  He attended tea parties, played hide and seek, dressed up – you name it, that dog would do whatever I wanted.  He loved being included. And he was never destructive.  Until that day.

I think Mowboo Barbie’s hair, dangling from the bike basket, was just more than Jake could handle. As I made a final donut in the driveway, Jake ran up and grabbed Mowboo by her hair from the basket and ran. I yelled and ran after him.  But it was too late.  I picked up Mowboo from the ground, where he’d dropped her, and I noticed it. He had punctured her chest.  Her Mowboo boobies were busted.  Big teeth marks right through her bikini top and into them. My mom came out of the house and found me with tears running  down my face, holding Mowboo in my lap.

“Oh, babe, Jakey wouldn’t have meant to do that. You know he’s never been mean to your toys.  He just thought it was one of his,” she said.  I shook my head, knowing that was probably right, but still pissed.  I glared over at Jake, who sat away from us, knowing he’d been bad.  My mom called to him and walked him to our backyard, and closed the gate. He jumped up on the gate in his usual way, panting and smiling over at me. I just glared. My brother had betrayed me and ruined my favorite toy.

I waited for my mom to go back inside the house and then I made my move.

I snuck back to the gate, knowing he would jump up to greet me as he usually did. He did exactly that and then I leaned in for the kill.  I gave him a big bite right on his nose.  He yelped and ran.  I turned around and started walking back to the front yard, smiling a devilish grin, satisfied with my revenge. Jake jumped back up on the gate, smiling and panting as always, already having forgotten that I’d given him a bite on the nose.  He was that loyal. Nothing phased him. I thought better of what I had just done, since I wasn’t the type of kid to burn ants or torture cats. I sighed and turned around and went back to give him a big kiss and a rub on the head.

“It’s ok, Jakey, I know you didn’t mean it,” I said to him. He gave me a big gooey lick and I giggled. I left him in the backyard a little longer and collected myself, still sad about Mowboo. But she wasn’t completely ruined.  She just had some additional personality now.

Jake never bothered another one of my toys. I also never got another Barbie.  Mowboo was the one and only and maybe for good reason. I stuck with toys that could take a beating and were dog-friendly. There were a few with similar hair but I smartened up and kept them out of the bike basket and away from temptation. It was just better that way.