I needed new glasses anyway.

Apparently, all our puppy needs to be happy is a soft bed, warm yummy food, some ear scratchin’, and a $300 pair of glasses to chew on. We left him in the kitchen after coming home for lunch with the baby gate closed, his bowls were full, and he had a room full of friendly toys. Instead of chewing on his rope or gnawing at one of his m-a-n-y bones, that little M0TH3R FVCK3R climbed up on the table, grabbed my glasses, and used them for teething ring. He crunched up the metal frames and turned them into a paperclip. A couple of days later, he broke out of the kennel that he had been banished to and tore up a library book that had been left on the floor by the couch. As desert, turned Laurel’s reading glasses into confetti. Two weeks later, Houdini slips his shackles again, cozies up to Laurel’s sunglasses and after removing each earpiece like he had opposable-thumbs and a screwdriver, he began an assault on my back-up pair of glasses. I caught his hairy little rump square in the act. The glasses survived, but only barely – the polycarbonate lenses look like they were put in the dryer for a nice long spin. We are now out $500+ and he now has a taste for all things optical. My fear is that it is a condition similar to that of lions or tigers that taste man-flesh; once that threshold is breached, they crave it. I have noticed him eyeing my new specs with great interest and I know he watches me as I take them off and put them on a high shelf for the night. He is waiting for me to slip, to leave them on an end table or nightstand so that he can satisfy this growing hunger, his consuming urge to both piss me off and partake in the forbidden fruit of LensCrafters.