There Goes the Streak
January 6, 2011
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I was sure to slip up at some point. We’ve been perfect for too long. I suppose we should give ourselves some credit. Making it to just shy of five months (yes, you read that right. I can’t believe it either) without having Scout destroy a single item she shouldn’t have must be some sort of miracle. It couldn’t last forever, no matter how grand it was.
This afternoon, I left my Dansko shoes in the dining room. Scout had shown no interest in them in so long, I had actually drifted unknowingly into a state of unaware bliss: I thought she wouldn’t mess with them.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom. I am nothing but pure innocence.
The joke’s on me. B went to the bathroom and was gone maybe one minute when he returned to find Scout mounging on my shoes like they were filet mignon. As I’ve said before (and will surely say again), lesson learned.
They’re just shoes, I remind myself (granted, kind of expensive shoes, but still). At least I can still wear them, and the majority of the scratches and bite marks are covered up by my jeans. I guess I can consider it a lasting memory of puppyhood.