What the hell is it about dogs that gives them desire to destroy anything at eye level? I mean you send the little bastards to school and they eat the books… Or in this case the better part of a kitchen chair. In a room full of items they’re supposed to chew on like nylabones, squeaky ducks, rope knots, and a bevy of other things in assorted peanut butter, liver, and chicken flavors, why go after the large wooden object that I can only assume tastes like wood? For the most part Destructo has been reasonably well mannered (except for the ongoing obsession with hands), but after Sunday’s little exercise in woodworking, I’ve had to clip his wings. Being at the top of the food chain, sometimes I really wonder why we tolerate animals living in the house.

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