Underdog

I’ll make this brief.

Ha … just realized I made a pun.  You’ll see why.

Anyway, I’ve spent the last week and a half anchored to a trade show, so there’s much yard work to do today.

Nellie and her chew toys.

But I vowed to write this first.  And not to belabor news of Nellie, but “there’s a blog post here somewhere,” I told Cindy.

Cindy … she’s the victim in this segment, by my count at least a dozen times.

You see, big-dog Nellie has a penchant for Cindy’s underwear.

The good news is that Nellie’s need to chew things seems to be waning.   The pile of munched-upon objects in the backyard seems smaller each Saturday.  We can now safely leave her free to wander the house for short periods while we’re gone.

But the exception is Cindy’s underthings.  Ever since Nellie first arrived and could scale the bed, she’s been fascinated with Cindy’s bras.  Not to get too personal, but maybe it’s the texture, or the elasticity.

Playtex labeled its products “Living Bras” for a reason. Maybe there’s life in those garments.

Each time it’s the same.  We are busy in the west end of the house while Nellie is up to no good in the east.   And then when Cindy discovers the deed, there’s a cry of “Nellie … damnit!!” and Nellie comes walking in slowly, hardly moved by the fuss.

Cindy follows shortly, holding the remnant that now looks like a dead rabbit.

“I think it’s your smell,” I told Cindy after she lost her fourth one.   

Cindy glared.  

I recovered quickly. 

“No, you smell good to her.  She likes your smell.”

Which suggests Nel doesn’t like mine.  I’ve not lost any underwear. Heck, she’s not chewed anything of mine. Only yesterday did she finally find favor in one of my socks, and that was one I’d worn closing up our trade show … extra sweat, you know.

But Cindy has lost bras, panties, socks, slippers, plus Chapsticks and other items off the dresser. Oh, and the occasional book cover.

Even a taste for literature.

Of course you might wonder why Cindy hasn’t protected these items from Nellie’s reach.  Well, we all know that habits die hard.  We use the bed for a lot of things, including stacking laundry.  And what’s the use of a bedside book table if it can’t safely carry a book? 

And the only way Nellie can see what’s on the dresser is to prop her big paws atop it to investigate.  Who anticipated that?

Anyway, Cindy’s habits have now changed.  Her undies are carefully stored away.  We’ve also erected a system of baby doors that channel Nellie’s movements through the halls, blocking her from certain rooms. Like the cattle pens at the old Kansas City Stockyards.

Or more like a milk barn.  When it's bed time, we guide her through the gates, us prodding her from behind. "Get along there, Nellie!"  So now, she doesn’t go into the bedroom alone.

The Weaver Stockyards.

We also toyed with the idea of large, artsy clothes hooks on the outside of our twin bedroom-closet doors … Cindy recently bought them, and her hook has a big “C” on it and mine a big “D.”  Fun! That’d be a simple place to temporarily hang things, we thought, out of reach.  

Plus it’d prepare us for our older years when we forget whose closet is whose.

Then we thought again.  I’m sure one of two things would happen should I install Cindy’s “C” and my "D" and she hang a bra on hers.

• Nellie would grab the dangling bra strap, and given the sheer strength of today’s state-of-the-art strap, pull the entire door down, or …

• Nellie would grab the dangling bra strap, stretch it to its full length, then let it go – “whizzzzz!” – sending the SAM missile skyward only to leave double dents in the ceiling.

No, it's best to leave the “C” and “D” in storage.  And the bras. 

So for now there’s peace in the house.  Yard work to do.  

Important work: Her backyard junk pile awaits.