I guess it was inevitable. I really thought we had the situation under control at first. After the initial attack the first day I brought them home, we had a fairly lengthy 'Come-to-Jesus' talk that included phrases like 'NOOOO!', 'Bad Dog!' and 'Thou Shalt Not Eat Piggy Slippers, Ben'! But the lure of all that pink, porcine, plushness was just too great. While the world was still, snow falling gently, and Mr. Bee and I tucked snuggly in our bunk, Mr. Bentley tippy-toed into the closet and snagged Lefty. I like to imagine it started as an innocent snuggle and kiss. Then one thing led to another and before he knew it, he was in way over his head; chomping, chewing and tearing the stuffing out Lefty's snout with reckless abandon. Lefty bore it stoically. He surrendered his innards with nary a word to alert the sleeping world of the horrendous mauling that was taking place. He's one tough piggy slipper that Lefty.
I awoke the next morning, cracked open my bleary eyes and swung my feet over the side of the bed and directly into wet, white fluff. Huh? What ta..? Did it snow inside? It took only seconds to realize the horror of what had happened; fluff all over the floor, Ben's sorrowful gaze and one piggy slipper with a seriously deflated nose. He had the audacity to do the desnouting right beside my side of the bed while I slept peacefully! Oh the carnage! One look from me and Ben took off for his kennel. When he does 'a bad thing' (echo, echo, echo) he checks with us first to see if what he suspects he did wrong was indeed...well...wrong. Upon confirmation, he high-tails it directly to his kennel and goes inside. Then he comes out every few minutes to check and see if it's STILL wrong and if we're STILL sore about it. A well placed stare or hand on the hip sends him scurrying back to the kennel again. It's hard to punish a dog that punishes himself first
So last evening found me doing swine surgery to reattach Lefty's poor, pulverized, proboscis. Thankfully, they are cheapish slippers with flimsy seams. Ben had managed to get the nose off right on the seam line so I could easily add stuffing and reattach with a few well placed stitches. Visually you can't tell it was ever ripped off. But I know. And Lefty knows. The memory haunts him and he speaks with more of a nasal twang than he did before. And Ben knows....he knows the sweet taste of piggy slippers and he's biding his time 'til the next dark and stormy night!