That was the yell I heard, first thing this morning as I sat eating a big bowl of frosted mini-wheat's with my daughters at the kitchen table.
“That's My Bra You Dam Mutt!”
My daughters and I hide our smiles and stifled our laughs as we all knew exactly what my wife had just discovered.
Our 7 month old Border Collie pup laying in the middle of the bathroom floor. Her front paws holding down the cups while in her teeth she holds a
strap, growling as she shakes her head, doing her best to kill the devilishly fiendish device!
“Let go...Let it go... Damn it I need that!”
I look to my oldest girl and say.
“I told you to take it away from Rosie...”
“What, and have mom blame me for it...Forget you dad!”
About then we see this black and white blur racing down the hall with her tail tucked. She hits the wooden floor of the living room and her feet slip
out from under her as she's trying to make a sharp turn to duck under her favorite hiding place, the coffee table.
Hot on her heels come my angry wife holding up yet another chewed up brassiere.
“Do you see this... That's three she's destroyed this month!”
Knowing better to say a word I nod in agreement as I make a big show out of eating my cereal. But I'm thinking, with that dogs passion for eating
bra's it might be very interesting to take her down to the beach during bikini season?
“Don't just sit there grinning at my like a big dope... Do Something About Your Dog!”
Technically both border collie pups are my daughters dogs
besides what can I do. I'm not the one leaving bra's in the hamper?
Still it's up to me to punish the naughty puppy... big ole sighs... the smile still hidden behind my hand.
"Bad doggy, bad, bad, bad".... Hawhawhawhaw... Oh yeah.... "Bad puppy--- Bad dog"