Chewing is good. It cleans teeth and releases serotonin, which makes a puppy happy. The dogs will frequently go to town on a nice, solid Nylabone, which makes a noise I enjoy (but which many people find grating). And often, the dogs will prop said Nylabone against a wall or another dog or a piece of furniture in order to get a better angle and a nice, steady chew. This, depending on the surface, can amplify or even slightly alter the noise. At any rate, I’m accustomed to those sounds and can usually identify them even if I can’t see what’s happening.
Occasionally, though, there’s a moment when I suddenly become aware of a sound I don’t recognize. For example, today, when I was in the kitchen making a sandwich. I had left Jethro with a huge Nylabone. He had propped it against the coffee table and was happily crunching away.
Two minutes later, he’d taken up woodworking.
After the initial yelling, I explained to him that Ikea particle board isn’t really wood, and that he should take up a new hobby. Something less…deconstructionist. I think I offended his inner artiste.
I can never get too upset with him about this kind of thing, though. Ultimately, it was my fault for leaving him out of eyesight for more than 12.7 seconds. Also, he’s teething. He has kind of a hillbilly mouth right now: some big teeth, some little teeth, some holes where teeth should be.
And to be honest, this just means one less piece of furniture to have to put on a moving truck in a couple of months. I’m just sayin’.
He sure went to town on that corner.
Jack chewed the entire corner of a kitchen cabinet, floor to counter-top, dug a hole in the kitchen wall and then ate the legs of my kitchen table. all in one day. Tuk was such an angel as a puppy, that I was unprepared for the teething monster Jack had become. His crate became his (and my) new best friend.
I actually found this more entetriainng than James Joyce.