Then there is Libby....she has apparently been dealing with separation anxiety, but you never know when it is going to strike. She was fine all day today with me at work, but after Randy fed her tonight, once he left the room, she tore up a photo album that has been on the bottom shelf of my bookcase--unmolested--for years. Yes, of course it was baby pictures of Justin from the pre-digital-who-knows-where-the-negatives-are age. In the last few weeks, she has totally annihilated a book, several magazines, two boxes of stationery, a pack of labels, a stash of my South Africa souvenirs, and a box of Christmas ornaments.
I know what you are thinking--don't leave them where she can get them, right? She actually managed to drag a box out from under the bed, chew it open, and dig out the Christmas ornaments. Then, she moved the heavy suitcase in the closet, drug out the bag of stationery, chewed it open...and there is that story. The book? I was reading it, left it on the bed, and went to the bathroom.
Tomorrow my task is to get all paper items out of this room or in metal bullet-proof boxes. It's either that, or doggie valium.