Take a good look at that photo above. See all those little shreds of paper? Yeah, that used to be William Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, a delightful piece of literature that I’ve never actually read from cover to cover. Guess I’m not going to be reading it any time soon. Doppler turned an 800-page novel into confetti in a few glorious moments of pure, unsupervised puppy joy.
I had left Doppler by himself, uncrated, in my apartment for just over an hour. I figured he would be just fine, since he has successfully stayed by himself three other times, all for about an hour. I had no reason to think this time would be any different.
I wish I had one of those pet monitors so I could see exactly how long it took him to demolish Thackeray’s novel. I’m guessing he sat at the door for a few minutes after I left. Once he realized I wasn’t coming right back in, he probably got up and maybe pounced on one of his bones. Chew, chew, chew. He looks up, realizes he’s still alone. Gets up, pads over to the bookshelf. Sniffs, rubs his side against the wood, sniffs the books again. Ooooo, this one smells good! He gently puts his mouth around it and tugs. Since he chose an 800-page novel, it flops to the floor as soon as it clears the shelf. Whoa! In his puppy brain, he thinks Vanity Fair wants to play. He pounces. He play growls. He grabs the pages and shakes. Pages rip. What a great game! Rip, shake the pages, run around my apartment, shred the pages into tiny bits.
Best game ever!
Needless to say, in the foreseeable future, Doppler will be crated when I’m not home. I don’t want to come home to another carpet of shredded literature. He’s just lucky that Vanity Fair isn’t one of my favorite books.
|Dude. Shredding a book? So awesome!|