Submitted by Page Honeyman
It was a lovely summer evening in August when we decided to try something new: leaving the dog at home alone—no crate, no confines. A real free-range pup. This had never been an issue for our then-14 year old, Bailey (an angel, a god-send, the living embodiment of the heart-eyes emoji). But Dutch, then a very immature 4 years old, had not yet learned how to keep her snout where it belongs (as in, not up on the counter, searching for food). But we wanted to give her a chance to try it out, so we put away all the food, hid all the foam rollers and exercise balls that look like dog toys, and blocked all the windows where she might spot a passing neighbor dog to howl at. We considered everything she could get herself into trouble with, and we hid it all away. Except for one thing.
While we were out celebrating my mom’s birthday, putting down tapas and tequila like they were going out of style, Dutch was at home having an absolute hay day with every shred of toilet paper and every last tissue box she could find. And we shop at Costco, so it was A LOT OF SHREDS.
While we were doing this:
She was home doing this:
And Bailey didn’t even try to stop her.
Because Bailey knew one thing for sure, that some lessons just have to be learned the hard way. The hard way for Dutch was getting a “reprimand” that was mostly us trying not to laugh while sounding stern-ish. And this public shaming for good measure.
Lesson learned: either lock up the dog, or lock up the T.P. You can’t have both
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