Miles’ Trail o’ Destruction

Wow.  That’s a lot of apostrophes for one title.

All right, I’m going to come clean.  I’m just not motivated to write much lately.  I don’t know what it is.  I do know it surely isn’t Miles.  Poor guy, he’s been trying his darnedest to give me good material.

So, here I am.  Making attempt No. 327 to get back into the swing of blogging.

I came home last week to a horrifying sight.  Miles had surgically removed the guts of the leather non-recliner in the study/dogs’ room.

He was in big trouble.

Like, really, really, almost became an outside dog trouble.

Then I realized that it was mostly our fault.  Darn it.

Today, I came home to a trail of trash.  We had left a plastic grocery bag of various items from cooking dinner last night hanging on the back door.  Well, Miles had a field day.  It went from the back door (original location) to the dog bed in the kitchen, to the food and water bowls, down the hallway, onto the other dog bed in the hall (oh, because they aren’t allowed near stuffed furniture unsupervised anymore–or the equivalent of him being an outside dog) and into the bathroom.  It took ten minutes to pick up all the little pieces of plastic, thyme stems, paper towels, etc.

I took pictures, of course, and it made me reminisce about all the items lost to the Miles.  Which kinda sounds like it could be a country song.

• So many toys.  Seriously, there isn’t a toy out there that can hold up to Miles chompers.  God forbid if they squeak.

• Trees.  Truly.  We have (had) these baby trees along our fence line and Miles just thinks they’re play sticks growing especially for him.

• My sanity.  I mean, look at this picture.  The really scary one, though, is the picture of me after I saw him looking like this.

• Leashes.  Miles “set himself free” twice in the backseat of the car and set Honey free once, too.

• Sheets and blankets.  In an effort to minimize the dirt and dog hair on our furniture, bed and car seats, we would put down sheets and blankets.  But Miles doesn’t like anything to come between him and the upholstery, so he dug and clawed and chewed until he was no longer lying on the sheets and blankets.

• Honey’s dog bed.  Poor Buns.  When Miles was just a wee lad, he took over her dog bed…barely fitting in it.  When he started really having trouble squeezing in, he made some modifications to it.  Here he is with it still intact.

• Our baseboards.  Granted, we have every intention of repainting the baseboards in the house.  What we weren’t planning on doing was replacing some of it.

• Pajama pants, t-shirts, countless pairs of underwear.  I only took a picture of this pair of Billy’s pjs because it was so funny that they ended up in the backyard somehow.

• So much toilet paper.  So very much.

A couch.

• One of the new pillows for my new couch.  (Not the cushion.  Oh, no, he’d definitely be an outside dog.)

• The blue non-recliner seen here.  Only, the stuffing was all over the place when I came home and found it.

The trash.