Funny Story

So, Roger is obviously a dachshund, and on top of that...a male. Any of you who have this combination will understand what I'm about to say. Roger doesn't mark his territory, and he doesn't lift his leg to pee. Brendan and I have made him a beta (a loving one), so that's not really an issue. Roger is, however, a chewer. He loves his chew toys, tags on clothing and blankets, the drawstrings on my pajama bottoms, and...of course...our underwear.

Brendan and I were watching TV last Wednesday night, while Roger was chewing on a rawhide stick I gave him earlier that day. Around 15 minutes later, I looked down and he wasn't there anymore. I couldn't hear him, and I didn't know where he was. I asked Brendan "Have you seen the dog?" Of course he hadn't so my frantic searching began. I checked his little den crate thing, under the blankets, behind the couch, on top of the couch...all the places he usually is when he isn't in my lap. I should have checked the closet...

You see...I, like most people, have a laundry basket. I also place my dirty clothes in said basket. Roger, likes to climb in the basket and steal my underwear and socks. As a result, I put the basket in the closet so he couldn't get it (only works if the door is closed). Well, Brendan and I must have somehow neglected to shut the door all the way, and he had gotten in. I found him inside my laundry basket snacking on the crotch part of my underwear. After I pulled him out, I noticed that a majority of the fabric was missing on not one, but two pairs. He didn't lick, or bite the undies, he ATE them.

While this didn't surprise me one bit, and I couldn't be mad at him because it wan't his fault the door was left open...I was frustrated because this brings the total of destruction to over $150. He destroyed my $100 robe (see above), has destroyed 2 pairs of work socks...and over a week's worth of underwear. Gotta love him though.

Anyways, I wake up at 4am the next morning to the unmistakable "ack ack bleguh" sound. Thinking this was an emergency I grabbed him and put him on the tile, so anything he puked up could be easily dealt with. Nothing though, he just shot a blank. 6AM rolls around, same drill. This time, I couldn't get to the tile fast enough, before the "bleughhhhhh" came. I did make it to a towel though, and it was there that he redeposited various shades of bright pink, blue, and green. I thought this was the end of it...but I was wrong.

When I came home for lunch later that day, I took him out to potty like always. He did his business in the rocks, and when he was done, a nice shade of hot pink caught my eye. NICE! This continued for around 3 more poops, but after 24 hours we were sure it had all cleared his system. Later that day Brendan turned to me and said
"Good, maybe that'll teach him not to eat those." I looked at him, smiled, and said while laughing:
"You have a lot to learn about dachshunds."