Daisy. Where is she?
She’s not at my feet or on the sofa. I don’t hear any chewing sounds. Now I know there’s trouble in Daisyville.
That’s when I start racing through the house calling her. When there’s no puppy bounding toward me from who-knows-where, I start cringing inside at what I might find. So far that’s included:
- A Q-tip with cotton swabs missing and a badly chewed plastic stem.
- Missing chunks of sheetrock from our bathroom remodeling.
- Daisy’s first (and only) bed with the entire bottom ripped to shreds.
- Bathroom trash delicately and deliberately spread about like a trail of breadcrumbs.
- Clean laundry removed from the laundry basket (forcing a rewash).
- Small accent rugs scattered hither and yon.
- A chewed computer wire.
- A flash drive cap, partially chewed.
- Things chewed beyond recognition. MANY times.
Sometimes we find the little culprit in the act. You always know when Daisy’s caught doing something naughty because she gives us her version of blushing – she stays perfectly still, and only her eyes follow us. That’s when we know to root around in her mouth to find whatever she’s hiding. And, in typical thug style, many times she’s moved it between her teeth and cheek so it’s hard for us to find.
Either that or she’ll turn her back and run, chomping away like crazy to get the thing swallowed before we can catch her. That happened this past weekend with a long, thin, splintery stick. But this time we won.
I’m just glad that so far, nothing serious has happened. Things can be replaced; Daisy can’t.
When your dog turns into 007, what’s the sneakiest thing he/she has done?