In The Doghouse

On a recent trip to IKEA, Bridget and Charlotte were overcome with the need to purchase half a dozen or more of these coat hooks that look like dog butts. It being IKEA, they had some hoopy Swedish name like pøøchenheinie, which only added to the MUST BUY MORE impulse. We were shopping for a couch for the playroom, but, hey, dog butts!

So I have no doubt that the next big household purchase is likely to be a selection of these towel holders:

Unfortunately, I cannot look at this particular novelty item without recalling my parents’ dog, Max. He was a big, lumbering black Lab with a penchant for eating unusual items. Once he ate a pair of Bridget’s earrings. Another time he ate an entire package of Bic disposable razors. One memorable Christmas Eve, he ate the entire deli platter my mother had bought for our holiday buffet (well, all the meat, anyway, not the platter itself). But the reason this thing reminds me of Max is the time he ate a pair of pantyhose. My father was out walking him, when the dog began to squat to poop but was having difficulty passing something. As the dog became more distressed, my father tried to help the dog and discovered the undigested pantyhose emerging from the dog’s butthole. He began to tug to try to pull them out of the dog, who, still quite distressed, attempted to flee in the opposite direction. This had the intended effect of extracting the pantyhose, though apparently they stretched quite a lot as the dog tried to run away.

We never did get the earrings back.

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