We figured out shortly after we adopted Emmy that she is a chewer/shredder. More shredder than chewer, really. She is not satisfied while things in our home are whole.
This is what I came home to on Thursday of this week:
What’s that, you ask? That gigantic mess is 199 puppy training pads. They’d been in a box on top of the freezer in our laundry room since August. She had never cared about them, until Thursday. Somehow, those puppy training pads had wronged Emmy, and she needed to seek revenge. So she murdered them, all 199 of them. She even went so far as to ingest some of them, then regurgitate them. Sweet, barfy vengeance. She was so proud of herself. I was not as proud.
The people who live directly behind us can see directly into our backyard; their house is a little higher up than ours. The people on the other side of them can, too, except from their front yard; their house is two story, and faces diagonally into our backyard. I’m sure they’re thrilled to come home, look out their window, and see garbage strewn across our backyard. I absolutely hate coming home to it, it makes me feel like complete white trash. She’s a determined chewer, this little asshole.
Sure, look all cute and innocent for the picture. That’s great, Emmy.
I found a website where we can order bulk rawhide bones for a decent price, but of course, the box won’t be here because I paid for the cheapest and slowest possible shipping. I was hoping we would make it until the box arrived without any more shredding of shit, but no. So I had to go to the local farm supply store (which is significantly cheaper than PetCo for things like rawhide bones, plus I think they sell chickens there) to get a couple to tide us over for the couple days until the shipment gets here. I got some serious side-eye from the men in the bib overalls and cowboy hats as I walked to the register with an armful of rawhide bones and a bag of special dental health cat food for Steve, because he has feline gingivitis. I’ve never felt so “city” in my entire life.
Lucky has never been a chewer. Before Emmy came along, we still had stuffed dog toys from when he was a puppy. He loves them, he gnaws on them, but he leaves them whole. He has always had no interest in bones, either. I knew, though, that when I brought the bones home from the farm supply store, that I would have to give him one. Otherwise, even though he doesn’t even like bones, he would end up trying to fight with Emmy to get hers away from her, just out of spite. I swear, dogs are like toddlers sometimes. So I gave each of them a bone. Emmy ran around like a pinball for a good 4 minutes before she decided to lay down and not move until she had almost completely devoured her bone, which took several hours.
And then there’s this bozo:
I don’t want this. What do I do with it? SHE CAN’T HAVE IT.
He basically paced around the yard with it for a good 2 hours before he gave up and came inside the house. He didn’t want the bone, but he didn’t want Emmy to have it, so he just walked around with it, looking at her in a very distrustful way. It was ridiculous. Also, so cute, because he is very fat and waddles like a duck.
I’m crossing my fingers that the box comes sooner than the tracking says it will…I can’t come home to more garbage strewn across my yard. I will lose my mind, but she’s just so damn CUTE!
I’m currently working on a little surprise for Anthony, but I can’t talk about it yet because he is still at work and will probably read this when it posts to my Facebook, thus giving away the surprise. I hopefully will post later and report good things about the surprise!