Jim says...
When we were in college in Bozeman, we got a cute little rat-dog we named Festus. Generally, a pretty good little dog, but I came home one day and my wife met me and said, "Don't hurt the dog!!" That'll get your attention right away!
"What'd he do?"
"Well, he was real quiet, and I went looking for him...he was in your gun room..." her voice trailed off as I pushed by her. There, leaning in the corner just like I'd left it, was my new Ruger .257 Roberts (round top, limited edition). Almost just like I left it, that is, except for the itty bitty teeth marks all over the buttstock.
We lost Festus a little later to distemper, so we got Red - a real dog - half GermanShepard/half German Shorthair. He ate, on two consecutive days while we were out, a couch (early Salvation Army, good college furniture), a loaf of bread with wrapper, one full box of TicTacs, and six bananas with peels.
All our recent dogs are perfect angels, however...
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