No, You Were Not Framed

Somebody’s in trouble again.

Little by little, seven month old Luna enjoys more roaming privileges as she learns the rules of the house. She’s got an ample supply of chew toys. Sticking to chewing only on those toys is her ticket to freedom. I can identify each toy by the sounds made when she’s chomping on it.

The other day as I worked on a painting, I noticed things were a little too quiet.

We don’t exactly have a lot of priceless items. Our furnishings are one level above dorm room quality. I hope to have grown-up furniture someday - after puppy rearing, of course.

Until recently we had a big denim sofa in our family room. I had hoped it would fade and weather as nicely as a favorite pair of jeans. Instead, it turned the color of low tide and started ripping in random places. I tried to make it shabby chic by patching it with funky fabric swatches. It looked like some kind of weird 60’s tribute. Eventually, it was nothing but shabby. We finally replaced it with something grown-up – a big, soft sectional sofa the color of lichen. How I love that couch.

It’s obvious where this is going. It couldn’t have been the big grey chair that I had to cover with a blanket because it’s already torn. It couldn’t have been the blue striped chair that drives me crazy because the cushion won’t stay put. It couldn’t have been a ten dollar throw pillow. Of course not.

I found Luna gleefully tearing the piping off the corner of one of my beloved lichen-colored cushions (ignoring the cardinal rule of the house: NO eating on the couch). I tearfully stitched it up, but it’s scarred. As for Luna, she can only hope for time off for good behavior.