It’s been a hard week for the dogs because I’ve spent so much time taking pain medication and sleeping. Actually, this is great for Margot and Guinness, because they are old and sleep is what they love second only to anything edible. But Tim has been away working, and Pixie and Penny are younger and more energetic. They had a great time last weekend because Sugar was with us, too, so there was lots of romping. But the week has been slower.
I felt better when I woke up today. I made the bed. Cooked some breakfast. Let the dogs out. Took care of some online business.
Then I decided to go out with the dogs again so Margot could dig holes, Guinness could vanish wherever she vanishes to, Penny could stare down the street (if staring were an Olympic sport for dogs, Penny would win the gold medal forever), and Pixie could burn energy chasing imaginary squirrels and real lizards. When I got tired of sneezing, we came inside, and I took a shower.
When I got out of the shower, I heard the telltale jingling of collar tags that means there’s playtime happening. Which is when I remembered: Last night, Tom went into our bedroom and realized some dog had thrown up a little on the bed. So he put the sheets and spread into the washing machine and put one of our older quilts over clean sheets. Older quilts = little tears and worn-out places. Little tears and worn out places = dog heroin.
I don’t know how much bedding we lost before we got Margot and Guinness past the terrible twos. And threes. The best guess is: lots.
I estimate that since the girls grew up and out of such behavior, I’ve lost about a quilt or pillow a year to Rex/Pixie or Pixie/Penny combos. With that in mind, I wrapped myself in a towel and dashed into the bedroom. Yep.
Here I’ve piled up the pieces.
Here are the faces of “innocent until proven guilty” who’d like to speak to Rex’s attorney before answering any of my questions. See how sweet they look on a different quilt as if to prove they would never do what I’m accusing them of?