Our dog takes offense to the life he's been dealt every time his master leaves him for weeks/months on end with a house full of girls. His diva-like behavior (sorry to the master of the dog for that) is beyond ridiculous. For starters, he hates to walk out into the yard to do his business when the grass is wet or it's raining. I refuse to accompany him with an umbrella. Tough luck. He hasn't had anyone to take him on long walks or runs. He hates me. It rains. He hates me. He gets too much love from the kids. He hates me. He is six years old now, mid-life. There is no excuse for such childish behavior. His personal revenge has been to destroy things and once (and only once) used the bathroom in my bedroom. A distinct line has been drawn.
Chaucer is calculating, carefully planning his revenge. Most of his anger, although directed at me in the end because I have a mess to clean, is specifically in the destruction of items that are dear to the girls... and unfortunately for Caelan, the items almost always belong to her. He watches the girls, taking notice of their preferred toy of the day. He waits until the perfect moment to sneak it away from them and then mutilates it. His abuses are specific. If it is a stuffed animal, he chews the eyes out, pulling the stuffing out the eye sockets. Sometimes the eyes are enough for him and he chews out the nose, again pulling the stuffing from the gaping hole. If the toy is plastic, like a Papo animal or My Little Pony, he chews the feet off so they can't stand any more. If he's really put out, he will chew the face off, too. He is clever enough to never have actually been caught in the act of doing these deeds, but it is doubtless he is the culprit. The term 'hang-dog expression' never had a better physical description than when finding him afterward.
Yesterday, after countless toys and even a few sippy cups fell to his wrath, I was not the one to find a dearly departed My Little Pony. Caelan did. And it was hers. Hell hath no fury. The pony was on a rug, all four legs perfectly severed from the body, and its head ground in with its matted mane. I watched in fascination as Caelan gathered the pieces up and marched over to Chaucer, shoving the pieces in his face. She was thorough in her dressing down, her eyebrows lowered in anger and she used her lowest 'I mean business' tone of voice: "This is MY pony. You chewed up MY pony. HOW DARE YOU?? You are a BAD dog! STOP eating my toys!" She repeated a few of these lines to make sure the scolding sounded long enough and the dog turned an ran to his bed in the kitchen, where he did not come out for at least twenty minutes. I think he took it well. So far, he has not destroyed anything. My only regret is that I didn't get any of it on video.
