Well, back to one of my favorite topics: chewing. I have had to work so hard on my leash-walking skills and my going-into-the-dog-park skills that something had to give. Chewing is a great tension reliever. People know this. They are always chewing something or other. But just you let a dog do a little therapeutic chewing and, oh boy! I try to ignore all the hullabaloo. Here is a fine list of things chewed this week:
- 1 lipstick and gloss combo case
- 1 padded coat hanger
- 1 tube of watercolor paint
- 1 plastic bottle of Vicodin
- the aforementioned bookmark
- the book, mainly the spine which is the most succulent part
I didn't make much headway on the lipstick case. Not interesting enough.
The coat hanger was a success. That Person thought, from a distance, that I'd destroyed some small ground animal. The watercolor paint--wow--quinacridone burnt orange. And did that ever look good all over the rug and floor. I got my paws all in it and was able to track it up and down the hall and on the kitchen floor. The Vicodin: That Person heard me tossing and catching it all up and down the hardwood hallway. She thought it sounded like I was having too much fun for it to be a piece of old chew thing. This gives you an idea of how much fun That Person is. NOT! She's telling everyone that if I'd busted through the container and ate the 4 pills--30 mg of vicodin--Her problems would have been over. Not even funny.
She has to take this stuff all the time for some bizarre neurological condition. What with the Vicodin and the cane She thinks She's like that guy House on the television. She is so not that guy.