The Honeymoon Is over
My six-month-old Labernese pup is destroying my house. His favorite pastime is stealing diapers from the garbage can and smearing its contents all over my (white) carpet. When he's finished with that, he chews the wooden armchairs of my antique bergère and strips off the fringe, then rips off the leaves of all my house plants. That accomplished, he dumps the contents of any wastebasket in his purview and tears the papers into a thousand tiny strips that are impossible to vacuum and thus must be picked up by hand--along with the hundred splinters from cruelly butchered pencils. Oh, and he still hasn't quite gotten the hang of potty training, so many's the time my bare foot has unwittingly met with the unpleasant sensation of cold, gelatinous bulk he likes to leave on the rug. Why not the hardwood floor? Why must it always be the rug? And all this on top of cleaning after three little children.
I know; quit your whining, Christine--puppies take work. What did you expect? Still, many days it takes a herculean effort not to whip out the .38 and have him turned into a lampshade.