There is exactly one person to blame for Stormy’s latest foray against humanity: me.
I have described many of her strange habits over the past 18 months. The most unusual is standing barking at the back wall of the house. Not at the door, but a segment of the house that … I guess it makes her mad. She will race over there and bark on occasion when nothing else is available. Go figure.
One of her most consistent targets for nutty behavior is her nibbling. She has a nervous thing where she presses her teeth up against fabric and clicks them together. No real damage done, makes her happy, no big deal. Then a few months ago I found my very best blue shirt with a ragged hole in the hem. It was exactly the size that a giant group of moths, or a single Sheltie, might make if they spent the whole night chewing. Here and there I found broken buttons that were not the product of moth damage – one culprit in mind. Then the blue shirt showed up in the laundry basket with another chunk out of the hem. Make that three.
I jokingly said to my wife that as long as Stormy stuck to the parts on the hem and left the collars alone we were going to be okay. Last night that changed. My favorite “church shirt” had a new collar design. Kind of ragged. No collar button left, either. So, we’ve moved on to a new era.
I’m to blame for this. It’s payback for her getting a new collar yesterday. Her old one was just too snug. In the past 18 months there has been a lot of food bribery in our house. Snacks make sheepdogs with issues come closer. She likes her treats, we like giving them. She’s not obese, but she’s not the skinny dog that moved in with us. Well, maybe she’s obese. But she’s happy and relaxed more of the time and I figured something out a while back – she’s got maybe five years left on the clock. A few pounds isn’t the end of the world.
I guess she figured if she got a new collar I could use one as well. I wish she’d decided that the ratty jeans next to the shirt were a better target. Jeans are $15.00 at Fleet Farm, shirts are $40 at the fat guy store.
I’m not mad, just amused. Nothing is safe from her since she has run of the house. But she only picks on my clothes. I suspect I should be honored. I am. I am truly blessed to have her in my life.
Thanks, God. I’ll buy a new shirt. It was time anyway.