Why Do Dogs Eat What They Do?

Dog Or Demon?

Bray.

Loves Wood.

Now Appears To Love Glasses.

Behind that smile is a chewer of incredible tastes.

Today has been a day of dealing with dogs who run in and out of the rain tracking mud everywhere. They run out, see it is raining and run back in before I can close the door. This is great dog fun. They did it all day. In Out. In Out. Great rascally fun. Tiring fun for me. Mopping dog mud prints off the kitchen floor then fluffing the dogs dry with a huge towel. Their bodies wiggling all about enjoying the rub down. Then, minutes later, at the kitchen door wanting out. We start all over again. In Out. In Out. When a dog goes to the back door and wants out, I open it. I am never sure if they have to go or want to come in for a treat. But with six, I don't want to question it. I could be mopping more than mud!
I picked up everything on the end table and headed out to buy dog kibble and dinner for myself at the pub next to the pet shop. Lovely, quiet time reading a book, sipping a bit of wine. I got home and checked my e-mails. Chloe my chi came in lickety split holding something in her mouth. She is of the barter school. You give her something, she gives you something. I am working on this, but I needed what she had now so I tossed her a bone. No time for training. She dropped part of the hard plastic lense to my reading glasses. Then she ran out and came back, proudly wanting to exchange something else, the side piece to my glasses. Now I know there is trouble in the living room and dash in to find the remains of my reading glasses on the floor. Not big pieces, but small little chards of hard plastic and the corner hardware. No other parts to be found.  No dog looks guilty, no dog appears ill. They all just look at me with blank doggie faces. I vacumed up the small chunks that were left and the last piece to get sucked up destroyed my vacumn hose. No suction. No more vacumn.
I have e-mailed my vet and he said fill them with fiber just in case. And my marching orders - poop patrol for 48 hours. So doggies are feasting on bagels, sourdough bread and baked potatoes. With six dogs I don't know who did what, but I am very suspect of my chewer Bray. He is eating through the wood arm of my chair. I will need to replace it this week.  In the past he has eaten a wood foot stool, the front piece of a wood chair, a rug and the window sill on my front picture window. Tasty morsels I guess. I watch Bray jump on the chair and curl up. Then his head slowly slides back, tilting it ever so slightly so he can reach the small wood arm of my latest replacement chair. He is whittling it down to a nubbins. Why, why, why do dogs chew what they do? I have bones and toys on the floor, they sleep on fluffy quilts, but they each have a little demon in them, a doggie demon, that likes to chew things dogs should not. I don't worry about my things, but I worry about my little demon dogs.
Tomorrow to do list: new glasses, new vacumn, new chair, loaf of bread and watching the dogs closely to be sure there are no side effects from tonight's episode. The delightful poop patrol has started. And I thought I had no plans for the weekend.
Widow Lesson Learned: Even the sweetest faces have little demons behind them. Keep plenty of carbs on hand for emergencies. Try not to eat them myself.