This is our boy, Stanley.
Stanley has lots of stuff. His own stuff. He found it, he loves it, he keeps track of it, the stuff is his. Just to be clear, his things are mostly not toys. Oh sure, there are a couple of favorites thrown in for good measure, but toys are largely community property around here. No, his are things that he picks out for himself. "Owning" things seems to be a common trait among German Shepherds, a rather charming one that I had forgotten about. Our other shepherd used to do it too - she kept "her stuff" in the crawlspace (we found dishes, yes dishes, out there all the time). Here's a small sampling of Stan's possessions, in the usual place that he likes to keep them - on the kitchen stoop:
Today we have a particularly well-loved toy (mostly destroyed), a curtain tie back, and a worn out slipper. This is an especially small and, uh, clean sampling. Ordinarily this pile would include such things as my favorite pair of pants (pinched from the bedroom), a chunk of broken glass, a dead and fantastically ripe mouse, aluminum cans, pieces of metal pipe, chunks of wood and things I can't even hope to identify. He can be seen spending most of his day lying in the sun on the stoop, amid his private collection of valuable artifacts, each and every one hand picked for its unique aesthetic.
He is a collector. A connoisseur.