I knew it was too good to last. My mom was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn’t notice me. Ophelia was hogging my spot on the couch and the ditzy Creampuff was giving herself a bath across the room.
Then my mom heard chewing sounds.
“Good dog, Gracie. You’re chewing on your kong toy,” she called out. Then she stopped. “Wait a minute…”
Sure enough, there I was chewing on a delicious rubber handle attached to my own brush. Well, it’s mine, isn’t it? Mom uses it to brush my fur and also Ophelia’s, when she can catch us. Creampuff loves being brushed but Ophelia hates it.
But I digress. My mom grabbed her camera to take a picture. Then she whisked me unceremoniously into my crate for a time out. Shouldn’t I get an opportunity to present my case and appeal this verdict?
“It’s for your own good, Gracie,” she said. “So I won’t decide to send you back to the foster home where you came from. They didn’t warn me you were a champion chewer.”
As if. I’m here to stay and I know it. But for now, I think I’ll lie low in the crate. I won’t even ask to get out. And I’ll give my jaws a workout on my kong toy, which makes my mom very happy.