I haven't written about this becuase the pain is still very fresh in my heart. Every time I think about it I get mad, sad, and I feel like I want to throw up a little.
It feels like the day I walked into the condo and found her there...laying on the floor with her legs up in the air wagging her tail. The bitch!
I walked in and found Lucy, B's dog, on the floor chewing on my pair of Prada sunglasses and wagging her tail. I was pissed and had to walk out of as B was disiplining her.
A week later, we go out for a jog and we are gone for no more than 30 minutes and I come home to my brand new, brand new, Ferragamo wallet on the floor half eaten.
I was pissed and this time took care of the dissipling myself. How could she? She went out of her way to get my stuff out of the side table by the couch and chew on it. Why not B's stuff? Why just mine? I have decided she hates me and is a cold calculted chewer.
Since that day, she has been banished to the kitchen while we are gone. She use to be able to roam the house while we are at work but not she is confined to the kitchen and she hates it.
My question is, why would she only chew on my stuff? She gets plenty of attention and we play with her all of the time.