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Jean Machine

Owning a dog is never for the faint of heart, nor for those with any sort of attachment to personal belongings. The puppy phase is generally the worst. There is likely an evolutionary reason for this. The ancestors of the modern Canis lupus familiaris may not have lasted long if they hadn't been so darned adorable while stealing scraps of mammoth steak from the table or peeing on the cave floor. Puppies are cute, and we are generally pretty forgiving of cute things and celebrities.

Of course, destruction of personal property isn't restricted to the first few months of a dog's life. Just as human toddlers have crayons on walls and teenagers have spray paint on the sides of buildings, the potential for damage increases with age, but the frequency generally decreases. That's why Dexter wasn't allowed free rein in the house until he was about 18 months old, and it's why we're only just testing the waters with Zeppelin now. His last major act of destruction was chewing the fringe off of our bedroom rug, and life has been pretty uneventful since then. He did gnaw the heel off of my brown leather sandal, but I also made the mistake of kicking the shoe off haphazardly and not realizing it had landed on his bed like a gift from the heavens. In a dog's mind, I was pretty much asking for it.

Generally, though, I had thought my stuff was pretty safe. Notice my careful use of the past tense there.

Now, I cannot be sure exactly which of the two dogs is responsible, and it's pointless to try to find out, since punishing or reprimanding a dog after the fact is not only ineffective but countereffective, but if I had to place money on it, I would have to go with Zeppelin. Dexter's afraid of our bed since he fell off of it in the middle of the night last week. Zeppelin treats it as his own, and when Capt Mike is away, he takes up approximately two thirds of it each night. The bottom two thirds. It's a bit uncomfortable, really. (Capt Mike will tell you "all the more reason not to have him up there in the first place", but what is the point of having puppies if not to cuddle them when your main cuddle supply is cut off by extended absence?) Anyway, the bottom two thirds of the bed is where Zeppelin stretches out, and also where I generally place items of clothing that I might be able to get another wear out of around the house, such as a really comfortable pair of jeans.

I should also mention that Zeppelin eats 7 cups of premium dog food each day now, four in the morning and three at dinner time, and really shouldn't get the munchies in the middle of the night. But apparently that was the case on Friday. I came home, fed the dogs, got into my jammies, and placed my jeans at the bottom of the bed to wear on Saturday morning for our daily walk in the P-A-R-K. I had a glass of wine, watched some TV, and put myself to bed, undisturbed until the morning. We woke up, went about our morning routines, and decided to get ready to go to the P-A-R-K, for which I would need my comfy jeans. My comfy jeans which felt mysteriously...gummy....especially where the waist band used to be. It seems that at some point during the night, someone (Zeppelin) either felt a bit peckish or fancied himself a bit of a Salvatore Parasuco and chewed the waistband off my jeans all the way down to the pocket rivets, ignoring only the area around the fly (though not entirely, because that was kind of damp too).

The jeans are now useless. Had he chewed up the bottoms, I could at least make a pair of shorts. As they are now, I could only possibly use them to fashion a pair of leg warmers or gaiters of some kind, both of which are a little too fashion forward for my taste. But if there is a silver lining to be had, I guess it's that I have an excuse to go shopping (not that a girl really needs one, but justification is always welcome).