At least that's what I keep telling myself.
One day last week, we went to the pool for 2 hours. 2 HOURS. I didn't know what to do with the dog because we'd taken her with us wherever we went over the weekend. So, I put a long leash on her and roped her to the banister in the kitchen.
This is what my carpet looked like leading up to the kitchen when I returned from the pool.
Thankfully, our friend who gave us the perfect dog, has some experience laying carpet and we just happen to have an extra piece.
The next time we left her we put her in a cage I borrowed from my cousin. When I pulled in the driveway and opened the garage door, who should come running out of the garage? Oh, well it would be THAT dog,! Taffy. She somehow got one wall of the cage down. AND, since she was out and about, she decided she would claw at Paul's red Buckeye door.
The next time I left her I went to Zumba. I looped a ribbon in and out and in and out of the cage and then I tied it around that particular door so that she couldn't get the door down. When I came home from Zumba and opened the garage, guess who came running out?
Oh, and since she was out, she decided to go ahead and work at that door a little more. There was some nice red wood shavings laying around the garage floor. To get out, she somehow managed to chew the ribbon off despite the fact that it had to have been almost impossible (I said... almost) to even get her teeth to the ribbon. Once again, the door was lying down flat.
Today we went to church and I decided to use a steel- linked chain collar to hold the door together. No way can she chew through that! Go ahead and try!!!
When we came home and opened the garage door, Little Miss Houdini came trotting out of the door with a look on her face like, "Is that all you got?"
Oh yeah! There were more wood shavings and since that must be getting a little old by now, she decided to do some jumping and try her mouth at the blinds that stand 4 feet from the ground and used to cover the whole window.
The cage door... bent. I'm not sure how she squeezed her ever-loving body through it... I just hope she tore some flesh on her way out.
Seriously, does God just sit up there cracking up at me?
I thought this was the perfect dog. I mean... I'm gonna go out on a limb and say this dog has some separation anxiety. Yep, she's got issues! That's for sure. Then she trots around the house looking all innocent and sweet. Curls up next to Jackson and gives me the look like, "All little boys need a dog."
Someone needs to tell her that one year....I gave a dog to my kids for a Christmas gift, and then 4 or 5 months later, I gave her away. I've got no heart. She's living here on borrowed time.