So this past week my husband walked out of our bedroom into the hallway, only to be confronted by Maggie in his path staring up at him with horrified eyes. In her mouth was the corner of the very new Queen-King sized quilt from the bed in the guest room at the far end of the hall. Need I add that the whole diagonal length of the quilt was trailing the length of the hall behind Maggie?
Her mouth opened and the quilt corner slipped down to floor level with the rest of the quilt. Maggie’s eyes told Mark “You didn’t just see what you saw, Dad. I didn’t do it.”
She apparently had decided the quilt would look better on her doggie bed in our room, where she could also chew her way through it at her leisure. How I wish we had a video of her pulling it off the bed and dragging it down the hall only to run into Pop at our bedroom doorway.
Right now she is driving me crazy with batches of staples in her mouth. I rescued an empty staple box from her mouth earlier today and could not find any staples strewn about anywhere. Suddenly ten minutes ago she was munching staples. I had to get a cookie to get her to drop the staples, which I scooped up and put on the counter, looking around the floors for more in vain.
No sooner did I sit down to my computer than she walked around the back of the sofa with another mouth full of staples. The other half of the cookie came out of my pocket and we made the trade. After looking behind the sofa and finding nothing, I sat down again at computer. This occurred two more times. I have run out of cookies and cannot locate the hiding place.
She is currently lying on the floor four feet away with another strip of staples under her chin. She sat there staring at me first and when I ignored her and no cookie was forthcoming she put the strip of staples down and rested her head on it.
Aha! She just sat up to chew an itch and I sprang over to scoop up the staples before she knew what was happening. Now she has disappeared goodness knows where and I fear she will return shortly with more staples. Time to refill the cookie jar. I swear I do not know why this dog has not accidentally committed suicide yet.
Yay! She’s back and has nothing in her mouth. The staple stash must be empty at last.
I keep emailing the breeder to ask if we can return her and get a refund, but they keep saying no.