I have several dogs back home. In fact, after Hugo, the poodle, was given to me by Jeff Uy, dad gave me Bluey, a daschund. Two dogs running around the house and pissing and pooing at the same time drove my mom mad. “If you add more dog in this house, I will move out!” she said. It was not until Hugo got another poodle pregnant and brought three more puppies at home that we realized 5 pets equal to disaster. Mom saw the fattest of the three puppies and meekly said, “He’s cute. He’s mine.” I didn’t remember her saying something about moving out after that.
You would think that just because we housed all these dogs would make me a dog expert. When my boyfriend gave me Basti, the mixed terrier and Shih Tzu, I thought I had it all down pat. There were so many things I discovered made me feel sorry for not paying attention to the yayas who took care of our dogs before. Because I’m now living by myself sans yayas, I get to do everything. Including scooping those, ugh, dog poo. Until now, I am still scouring for the best dog food that doesn’t make his poo wet and stinky. Yuck, no more shit talk. Then there is that inate need to scratch and bite everything he sees in sight! Putting on jeans or leggings proved more difficult especially when you realized a dog is hanging by his teeth on your pant legs. He just won’t leave my stuff alone.
Check out this list of damaged items:
1. Babe’s Havaianas flip-flop in black
2. Babe’s Havaianas flip-flop in white
3. Babe’s Billabong flip-flops
My MYOH Flipflops (Twice)
4. HP laptop charger
5. Universal laptop charger
5. Several DVD cases
6. Scratched cds
7. 2 Combs
8. My white bra
I therefore concur that if chew toys were in the shape of such items, maybe Basti will concede.