Those of you who have been reading this blog for awhile know I have a dog. I have told many stories about Molly over the years because there have been many stories to tell. Stories like how, within the first year of her life with us, she destroyed two fans (chewed through the cords), a mattress (dug right down to the springs) and a Tommy Hilfiger comforter.
She has dug holes in the carpet in Autumn’s room, chewed up the banister and destroyed several queen-size flat sheets. She has stolen our dinner more than once. She has stolen countless items from the kitchen counter and eaten them or chewed them beyond recognition. A loaf of bread, a milk carton, a sleeve of bagels and a nearly full tub of Crisco are just a few of the many things she has targeted. Most recently she destroyed one of our best Tupperware containers to get at some leftover Ragu and one evening we came home to find a package of uncooked egg noodles torn up on the floor.
She has eaten so much crap and has rarely gotten sick that we don’t even bother keeping her on the same food anymore. We figure any dog that can stomach the aforementioned items and both human and animal feces is not going to suffer ill effects from eating Purina one day and Pedigree the next.
But to really appreciate the wonton gluttony of this dog you need to know that this morning a bowl of cantaloupe fell out of the fridge, spilled its juicy contents onto the kitchen floor and she didn’t even budge. Not even a sniff. So it appears she does have a discriminating palate after all.
The sad thing is that no one is going to pay me for this story. There will be no book and subsequent movie in which I am portrayed by Courtney Cox. People will not sit in a theater and cry when the dog is gone and we will not one day issue wistful sighs as we remember her crazy antics.
And when Molly is gone and Autumn starts begging for that puppy, I’m going to sit her down to read these very words as I carefully explain that while a pet’s unconditional love has the capacity to reach previously unknown regions of your heart, your tolerance for their shit can only go so far.
{ 2 comments }
Oh dogs are SO much work, believe me I am married to a dog trainer!!
I can SO relate! Our golden retriever once ate a pan full of rising bread dough rolls. We gave him a turkey baster full of peroxide, and they all came up (risen). No, Silly-we did not eat them anyway, heehee.
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