Our dog Charlotte, like any dog, loves to chew.  For reasons yet unclear to me, she loves, above all else, to chew my belongings.  She knows she isn’t supposed to, and I always know when she has done something wrong.  When we arrive home, she walks up to us with her head hanging.  She looks up at us as if to say, “Forgive me!  I’m just a puppy!  I couldn’t control myself and I am soooo sorry!”  Then I go looking for the damage.

Since we adopted her, she has eaten the left shoe of two pairs of brand new heels, and one pair of Nine West sunglasses, among many other miscellaneous objects, such as plants, the baseboard trim, and a big pot full of dried ornamental grasses.  She routinely steals my socks, and even more embarrassingly, my underwear, from the laundry hamper.

That makes for a great conversation starter at a party.

Three days ago, she ate one of our daughter’s markers.  It was green.  I know it was green, because her doggie bed is covered with green blotches and our dog walker told me that her poop was fluorescent green the next day.

It was then that the diarrhoea started.  Doggie diarrhoea is no joke.  About five a.m., she began whining, which she rarely does, and so I thought I should tiptoe down and see what was wrong.  We had a little cuddle and then I let her outside.  She ran to the backyard and I kept my eye on her to see that she didn’t go a-skunk-hunting.  It was like a canon shooting out her backside.  I have never seen anything like it.

It’s gone on for a couple of days now, and this morning I came downstairs to find a big pile on our new shag rug.  Out came the rags (yes, I put the plug in the laundry tub this time).   I spent 20 minutes scrubbing poo out of the fibres.  I am also fairly sure that she threw up and ate it.  Ugh.  I scrubbed between dry heaving and yawning.  No one should have to deal with anything other than a big mug of coffee at 6:00 a.m., especially anything that disgusting,  Ew.

Tonight I gave her only a dish of plain rice instead of kibble for dinner.  Then we went out to take our daughter to an open skate, so she could practise.

When we got home, we discovered that Charlotte had found my brand-new-awesome-find-at-Winners-love-them-to-bits Giorgio Armani sunglasses.  This is what they look like now.

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Why, oh why, Charlotte?  Why my favourite things?

What’s wrong with a nice men’s dress shoe, a glove, or even a mitten?  Why my things?

Or better yet, how about one of the 7 dog toys that are lying around our house?

I keep saying it, and I’ll say it again.  It’s a good thing I love her…

…because right now my love is being acutely tested.

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