So I chewed up a toy: big deal!

This morning Mom noticed I was coughing and trying not to choke. At first she was worried.

But when I coughed up some cloth, she caught on. “Gracie, you are chewing up the toy you got as a birthday gift – the nice yellow bear you got from Summer. There’s a big hole in the bear’s paw. You’ve got cotton filling all over the floor.”

Me? I tried to look innocent. Mom took the toy away and gave me one of those toys that promise to be chew-proof. Boh-ring!

“From now on,” Mom said, “you stay where I can see you. You choose: sofa or dog bed.”

So I’m curled up tight on a corner of the sofa, instead of sprawled out on Mom’s nice big bed.  The dog bed is nice too, but it’s on the floor. We CUPPIEs don’t like to sit on floors. (A CUPPIE is a Canine Urban Princess. Haven’t you been reading this blog?)

“And if you ever leave the bed to eat cat food,” Mom said,  “you’re in the crate for the night.”

Yeah, yeah. Good thing you’re not a human mom. Your kids would be in therapy for life.

Don’t tell Mom, but the crate’s not so bad. I get a peanut butter kong to keep me company. Who needs anything else?

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