Issue #29 But We Still Love Them..
Teeth
Once upon a time my life was populated by small short faced dogs.
Mostly pugs.
None of whom were terribly big on destruction by chewing. Destruction by peeing maybe, but chewing not so much. I’m not sure if they were merely uninterested or if they were incapable due to weird faces and little bitty teeth.
Then we got our first “destructo” dog.
She was a border collie lab mix and we were completely unprepared for how her teething would change our lives.
At first, it was small things. Legos, toy cars, socks and other random items of clothing.
Then one day I came home to find this:
I was not pleased.
It wasn’t a super valuable chair but it was MY chair. The one I sat in to teach harp lessons. Perhaps she just wanted to be close to me. In my mind’s eye, I saw her sitting in the chair, watching out the window and waiting for me to come back home while casually gnawing on this handy bit of wood.
Like a pacifier.
Then she graduated to the base of the stairs.
I was even less pleased.
You may be wondering why we didn’t just get her a bunch of dog toys upon which to take out her chewy frustrations.
Oh, we did.
Said toys had an average life span of approximately 22 minutes before they began their journey through her intestinal tract.
We had to do something.
We bought a crate.
I had never needed to crate a dog before. (The pugs were pretty low key, you see.)
Locking her up while we were gone actually worked pretty well but I felt really bad about it.
Which is why, when we went on a 10 day vacation, we had three different people coming during the day to keep her company and to let her in and out of the crate.
That did not go too well.
The vinyl floor installed in the 1970’s and the original linoleum hiding underneath.
Waiting to be revealed by my dog the archeologist.
To read the whole story behind this photo click here. (You can scroll past the several paragraphs detailing the other vacation disasters).
She eventually grew out of her nibbling and was a wonderful companion.
Which is why, after she passed, we got our next dog from the same guy in hopes of a sort of half sibling situation.
You can probably tell where this is going.
Yep.
Also a destroyer.
This time the first true casualty was my husband’s wallet.
His wallet full of credit cards.
And his driver’s license.
Three days before he was due to fly out East for an important meeting.
The airlines and the TSA take a dim view of letting you onto an airplane – or even through airport security – without your state issued photo ID.
Hubby had to high tail it down to the DMV so they could fix him up with an official paper version.
I had forgotten about the wallet.
My husband, helping me sort through poems for inclusion into my next book, laughed, excused himself, and returned with the license.
I don’t know why he saved it.
I guess for the museum.
Copyright© 2023 Anne Morse Hambrock All rights reserved.
Final Harvest
The frigid weather seems to have found us in earnest and I’m guessing this will be the final big haul from the garden.
Except the eggplants - there are a bunch of those.
I have to find out how much they do, or do not, like the cold.
I’m sure they’ll tell me.
Keep The Messages Coming!
A big “thank you” to all of you who have messaged me commented or hit “like” after reading my poems and commentary!
I appreciate the feedback and knowing how often I have struck a chord with your lives.
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