Tag Archives: chewing

You are there, but where is there, and can you call?

When she ate my socks, I just thought she was expressing the thought that my feet were so beautiful, they didn’t need cover. When she ate the letter I had ready to send to a book agent, I thought maybe she was expressing a literary critique on my work. When she ate the Christmas presents, I assured myself it was simply her silent protest to the commercialism of the holiday.

But when the dog ate my address book,  the fun was over. She ate it in pieces; I had plenty of warning. She started on the leather cover and chewed out a couple of addresses for people I didn’t contact anymore anyway. But I was careless once more and left the battered book where my intrepid billy goat dog could, by stretching herself up onto the desk, retrieve it, and my communication notes became her endive salad!

It was so angering—all my addresses, telephone numbers, important dates—gone in a flurry of ripping teeth. I banished the dog to the basement, but that did not recover my address book. And for a woman with the memory of a kitchen sieve, this became a real crisis.

I knew from the start that it was serious. Not only is my memory notoriously unreliable, but I have a real mental block when it comes to numbers. It’s true; you can ask my high school math teacher—oh wait, his telephone number was in my address book. Well, take my word for it. Although I might remember that my daughter lives on Green Street, even though I’ve been there, I have trouble conjuring up the  house number.  I don’t remember zip codes, and as for street, avenue, drive, boulevard, etc. and S, E, NW, SE, forget it!

Telephone numbers are even worse. I didn’t realize just how much I relied on the address book to call people. Since the dog’s impromptu banquet,  I have  had occasion to need to call my sister, and I had several short and apologetic conversations with the people I called before I finally hit on her telephone number. My children’s numbers are all in my husband’s cell phone, but I’ll have to wait until he has more time to assist, so I can retrieve them. By then, I’ll have acquired them some other way—perhaps I’ll write and ask them…no, that’s not going to work is it?

The author of all this misery, is of course, living at my house so I don’t have to call her or remember her address. She’s clever enough to know when I’m thinking about that lost address book, because as soon as I start squinting at the ceiling with the phone in my hand, muttering, “That’s 857…or is it 587..or, oh, I don’t know,” she puts her tail between her legs and slinks down to the basement.

Eventually, I’ll get my address book back together and this time the pages will be stainless steel with a lead lock. In the meantime, I’m going to do a lot of driving around, trying to use the GPS I call a memory to find the people whose addresses are presently in the digestive system of a dog who seriously did not get any nutritive value out of my records!

 

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Bringing up Josie

She was a cute and pudgy little puppy, rolling around in the grass with her brothers and sisters. When we picked her, we were sure we were getting a mild and easy to manage dog.

We brought her home, named her Josie and prepared to enjoy our puppy. And she was sweet and mild and calm….for about four days. That’s when it finally hit home that she wasn’t so calm and mild.

She desperately  wanted to sleep on the furniture, so we bought her a bed. She promptly ate the bed and continued to climb on to the furniture. She ate a pair of my glasses…well, she didn’t really eat them, she just chewed on them until I couldn’t wear them. Explaining that mangled mess to the eye doctor was fun!

She loves paper most of all..anything from toilet paper to books. So far she has eaten the address book, my Nancy Drew collection, a Christmas present for my daughter, the password book, two books of check-blanks and so many napkins, paper towels and random papers I have lost track.12247164_983928861645544_8685450468341935516_n

The house looks like the aftermath of a hurricane all the time and the only glass items that have been broken are the family heirlooms I didn’t have the foresight to put away. I have stripped the house of all the things I think she might go after, but it is true that I have less plastic canvas, balls of yarn and shoe strings.

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Hurricane Josie!

Magazines are a favorite for Josie to take apart, she especially devours the Popular Mechanics and Sports Illustrated papers. She positively devoured a travel book on New York and has consumed a great many of my crossword puzzle books, that I always thought I’d never finish!

My beautiful old Christmas cactus, to large and fussy to be moved from its southern exposure, has taken a particular beating from her. No matter how often I shouted at her, she could never resist the urge to bite at the leaves and it was looking pretty sad. Now, I have chair all around it and while it looks like it’s in jail, it at least is making a recovery.

We were selective in what we put out for Christmas decorations, knowing she would be a factor. I put up the old Christmas tree instead of buying a new one as I had intended. I used all cheap, glittery plastic bulbs, so she couldn’t ruin my good stuff. The tree is unplugged half the time because apparently Josie doesn’t think lights are necessary and the bottom third has been relieved of its bulbs while Josie walks around with a permanent glitter mouth.

I truly believe that Josie will grow up and get better. This is what has kept her alive through bouts of jumping on the cupboards to help herself and growling matches with the cat. I look forward to the days when I don’t have to see her wandering into the living room with a butter paper hanging out of her mouth and my good lint roller stuck to her foot.

Until then, I’m just trying to survive “Hurricane Josie” and hoping that all the glossy magazines she is consuming don’t cause us an even more unpleasant reaction!

 

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Filed under Humorous Column