“So I chewed a shoe…what’s the fuss about?”

Uh oh…My mom Cathy got into a long phone call this morning. She was clicking on her laptop, intensely muttering about blogs and teleseminars and keywords…and totally ignoring me.

So what’s a dog to do? I decided to help my mom out. See, Cathy really, really hates dressing up. She totally detests dress shoes, which she defines as anything except Asics and Birkenstocks. .dog chewing shoe

Now, I happen to know these loafers pinch her feet. She can barely walk across the room in them. And they’re not exactly in style. She needs to throw them out.

So I’m going to accelerate the process. Mmm…delicious leather. Probably fake, but who cares?

Yeah, I’ve got a handful of chew toys. But why eat hamburger when you can have steak? And why go for a chew toy when you can have a shoe? Yum.

My mom doesn’t get it. She’s using words that should not be uttered in the presence of a CUPPIE. My royal ears are sensitive.

“Gracie, I have a speaking engagement next week! I have to look presentable! What will I wear?”

Well, if it were me, I’d pad across the room in my bare paws. Who says dogs are dumb?

Good thing I’ve got an outing planned with my Aunt Sara. We’ll go run in the park while my mom goes to the gym and runs her errands and works. By tomorrow, the shoes will be in the garbage, where they belong, and my mom will go out and choose a new pair of running shoes.

“Maybe I’ll get a pedicure and wear my Birkies,” Mom said wistfully.

Good idea. Never mind that she’s never had a pedicure, but I get one with every bath. Go for it, mom!

“Mom slows down…”

My mom Cathy tends to ignore most physical symptoms with, “It’ll just go away if we wait.”

She says she gets her philosophy from the time she actually visited doctors who were prejudiced against women, especially single women. Eventually she stopped going to doctors because, she says, “I don’t have to pay big bucks to hear, ‘It’s all in your mind.’ ”

Of course she drags me to the vet if I sneeze twice in a row, but that’s another story.

But Cathy finally admitted her running shoes were creating a blister. She switched shoes so the yucky red area would be exposed to air and heal, a trick she learned when I got nicked at the dog park last year.

sneakersDoes anyone remember the episode on Seinfeld where Kramer goes to a dog doctor for a cough? My mom didn’t laugh. She thought it was a great idea.

Cathy dug out her only other pair of wearable shoes: her 10-year-old Birkenstocks. Not quite as comfy as her running shoes so we’re walking less.

Yesterday we bussed to the dog park and I had to run around whether I wanted to or not.

“We can’t go on a long walk,” my mom said, “or I’ll get new blisters from the Birkies. So you’d better run around now.” She herself went to an exercise class where she got to go barefoot.

Someone once told my mom, “A tired dog is a good dog.” That’s one saying she never forgot.

What happened to, “Dogs need treats every day?” I like that rule.

Dog Saves Owner From Fashion Disaster

OK, I don’t stop with food. Cathy got some flats to wear when she absolutely, positively can’t wear sneakers. We can’t call them “dress shoes” because Cathy doesn’t do dress-up.

She hates to buy shoes because none of them fit. She’s right. Her feet are shaped more like shoe boxes than shoes.

So she buys whatever she can, spending as little as possible. She spends more on concert tickets, books and (thankfully) dog walking. She just begrudges paying for anything that causes pain and pinches her toes.

This last pair were pretty ugly. She was desperate and they fit, more or less. But she knew: they really should go.

I saw what was needed. On her own, she would never replace them. It was my duty to chew them up. Now she’s forced to buy new ones.

So…why did she yell, “Oh no, Gracie!” and shove me into my crate? When do I get a nice thank you biscuit?

When hell freezes over…or Cathy voluntarily dresses up when she doesn’t have to. Not tomorrow, for sure.