Annie The Little Red Dog (aka ATLRD) is a pretty good pup most the time these days. When she was younger, though, she would express her displeasure at not being INCLUDED IN EVERYTHING by chewing stuff up. Stuff that wasn't hers to chew up, particularly if I had handled it - things like bedspreads, rugs, socks, house shoes, personal items of underwear one might find in a laundry basket (before they've been washed, ew!), a shawl I had JUST knitted, a pair of bamboo knitting needles (shredded!), another shawl I was knittING, empty cups, straws and tissues from the trash, any kind of wrappers from the trash, pens and pencils. Markers. Crayons. Notebooks.
This activity taught me to get heavy trashcans with well-fitting lids and foot pedals to open them, and to keep my laundry confined or washed, and to keep anything I didn't want eaten off the floor and out of reach.
She has done quite a bit better, the older she gets. It's been a good while since I returned home to find a little trail of whatever chewed up on the floor.
Today, though. (Heavy sigh)
This was yardman day. I always "lock her up" on yardman day. She loves men, so she's about as like as not to go out to see them, and then wander out the open gate. She sees free air, she's off and running until SHE decides to come back, so on Yardman day, I block the doggie door so she can't get out, because I also have things to do on Wednesday mornings.
I guess today I was gone a little "too" long. No tissues, dirty laundry, or knitting projects in the middle of the floor, though. No, this time it was in the front bedroom. A little box that'd had crayons in it was laying on the floor, with an empty red crayon wrapper laying next to it - along with red, green, blue, and yellow crayon CRUMBS on the floor surrounding it. No trace of the other crayons, just the crumbs.
She didn't follow me in there, but was still in the house, so I started in with the dreaded, "WHAT IS THIS?" Man, she DISAPPEARED. She totally knows what "WHAT IS THIS?" means, and she does not like to hear it. She always looks like she'd 'bout rather take a beating than hear "WHAT IS THIS?" She put herself in time-out.
I hope they were tasty, those crayons. She's gonna be pooping bright wax confetti for the next couple days! And now I'll be sure ALL the bedroom doors are closed when I leave the house.
