After a bit of jolly ol’ free time all by herself with free run of the whole house, my seven-month old pup rolled on her back as a rectangle of sunlight poured from the open front door, from where I observed: a living room rendered a disaster zone, a kitchen boasting a derelict garbage can, that I needed to buy more toilet paper.
She destroyed: two rolls of toilet paper, a sandal and gnawed further on a previously demolished sandal, various contents from junk mail to discarded food wrappings previously existing within the garbage can, several plastic drinking bottles, some tupperware, and gave fine toothmarks the jar of peanut butter, her very most favoritest treat in the world.It looked worse than it sounds. Imagine a piece of toilet paper torn into pieces and these pieces torn to pieces and so forth ad infinitum…
Shudder at the contents brewing within the bowels of this Alaskan Malamute-Labrador Retriever Mix having had—this criteria being determined on the merit these objects have left behind pieces of itself, their remainders since remaining incognito—eaten: a stick of Krazy Glue, a big bag of Reese Pieces, a stick of pure Cocoa Butter, the crotch of women’s underwear (not mine, I swear), and Styrofoam covered with the juices of raw chicken thrown away several days before (at least THAT smell’s gone).
Despite a few days excreting foil, it is safe to say she is unaffected by these deleterious contents, and still quests unabated after bags of Reese pieces and jars of peanut butter.