He has good taste in sweaters

My golden retriever, Dexter, is a fabric lover and shows us that love by chewing crater sized holes in various things he finds in the house. And not just anything he can find- he is very specific that it has to be quality items. First it started with the tassels on my fancy fainting couch pillow. Then it moved to my husband's Calvin Klein boxer briefs. So far, he has chewed through six pair. It got to the point one week where my husband had to do laundry 3 times just to have clean, non holey underpants. (Yes- my husband does his own laundry!!) Fortunately, he has replenished his underpants supply and guards his laundry basket tighter than Ft. Knox.

At first, I thought this was a passing fad. Once Dexter got a taste of the bathroom rug and the foul rubber backing, throwing it back into the bathroom as to infer that it needed to be cleaned, I'd hope that was the last of it. Until he discovered my laundry basket. He selected key items- some of my favorite and most expensive lingerie. Oh, no, not my Victoria's Secret bras, but the Wacoal! I don't work at Nordstrom anymore; those bras are expensive to replace! I then got a clue from my husband and ensured that my laundry was well guarded. I've come home many times in the past few weeks to simply find Darian's socks and her funderoos on the dog bed. Dexter had enough of the finer fabrics our wardrobe had to offer. He discovered easily replaceable, and cheap, things to chew. Or so I thought.

For years I had been asking for one those really super comfy, hand knitted Irish fisherman type sweaters. You know, the ones that are so warm, not very fashionable, but incredibly warm and cozy? They are not something you really find while out doing your new school clothes shopping, and frankly, I had only seen them in specialty shops in little tourist towns. Not going to buy a heavy lambswool sweater while on a summer trip. So, I just kept it in the back of my mind until a few years ago when a friend went to Ireland and brought me back a sweater! The very sweater I had been wishing for over the years. I called it my 'twenty pound sweater.' As soon as you took it off, you dropped 20 lbs, or at least looked like you did. That sweater kept me warm many a winter and even grew a little with me during this pregnancy. Until last night.

My husband was coming into the bedroom to kiss me good night, and while walking through the living room to turn down the lights, he noticed something on the dog bed. He picked it up and brought it to me. It was my twenty pound sweater. I gasped as my husband slowly unbundled it to reveal a hole in the back the size of my ass. My hand knitted, carried overseas from Ireland, special twenty pound sweater. Now, nothing more than a worthless ball of wool.

Needless to say, Dexter slept in his kennel all night long as punishment and this morning tried his best to steer clear of me. I'm now trying to figure out how to get the $300 out of him to replace the sweater he ate.

Dogs! At least Ellie, my other boy, likes to chew bones.