Chewalicious! Chewtastic! Chewrific! These are words that may have been going through Chloe’s head as she chewed a large and treasured hardcover book to pieces while I was at work.
This book was treasured by the person who lent it to me.
Chloe could’ve chosen the books in the bookcase – that are mine – the magazines on the coffee table – that are mine – even the library books since they are replaceable. (Did I mention the book wasn’t even mine?) I felt horrible.
I looked at Chloe and … well, what can you do? Yelling won’t help. Correction: Yelling won’t help her. It helped me a little but I kept it to “Why?? Why did you choose THAT book? Why?” She just looked at me, curiously. “Gee, Ma. You seem excited. Wanna play fetch? Huh? Ya wanna?”
The book’s front cover (which is entirely gone) was a blue-ish-green so, in the “end stage”, post digestion, it blended nicely with the meadow that is my lawn. *sigh*
My friend, a dog lover, was understanding, bless her. However we now refer to Chloe as Chewy. She does look a bit like Chewbacca from the Star Wars movies. I’ve also located another copy of the book and am replacing the chewed-up mess. (Whew!)
Lesson learned. Even good dogs will chew.