I Love Lucy, and her Jaws of Steel
It began with my action figures, Chewbacca, Princess Leia, Baby Spice and then Scary. Incriminating legs, heads and glittery body bits sprawled across my living room floor.
OK I figured, I am an adult, what do I need plastic action figures for? I pried the left over hunks of plastic from her jaws and got a good laugh a few days later when I found Leia's disembodied head rolling under the couch.
I did not think my favorite orange Woolen Mills hat was as funny. Or my brand new pair of Keds, or the striped socks my mother brought me from Sweden. But when I came home to discover a chewed up ink pen, an ink-splotched beloved chair and a floor full of smudgy black paw prints, well, that was the last straw.
Not only does Lucy have dozens of fresh yummy bones to chew on, she has dozens of yummy chew toys. I try to rotate them so each one is new and exciting. She gets a long walk every day, dog park action, and loads of backyard time.
Not that any of this ever tires her out, she is like the Duracell Bunny and the Tasmanian Devil rolled into one. This girl's battery just never slows down.
Is she bored, resentful, petulant or do her jaws have a life of their own? Since I can't afford a dog psychic, I will just have to continue teeth-proofing my house and arriving home with baited breath:
