For those of you who have been following along for some time, you may remember that we adopted a rescue dog last January. He was only six weeks old at the time and was found lying in the street. He was precious and quickly ensconced himself in the midst of our hearts and home.
It was only after we were all completely smitten that he began to show his true colors.
First it was a tassel on a pillow. Or two.
Little things.
An accident here or there. But he's so little. And cute.
One day, however, he pulled out the big guns and destroyed my antique needlepoint settee. While I was in the next room! I tried not to cry. It's furniture, not brain cancer. But it was my nicest piece {so I allowed myself to cry just a little}.
I was at my wits end and threatened to get rid of the little guy.
But the family is quite attached.
And they all promise he'll be better.
He's just a puppy.
So here I am nearly a year later.
The destructive episodes are fewer and further between.
But we are clearly not out of the woods yet.
I was out all day yesterday and returned to this little scene {I added the sign for dramatic effect, but the chewed bed and cord are all his handiwork}.
Little Miss Thang later mentioned her concern that he does not have a stocking {the other two dogs, of course, do}.
I noted he did not need a stocking because he is clearly on the Naughty list.
Little Miss Thang, however, suggested Santa could not bear to put this "morsel of cute love" on the Naughty list.
Why, I asked?
Because he lived on the streets and has had a hard life. He's allowed a little naughty.
What do you think? Do we give the little guy a break due to is unfortunate start?
And really, just how much naughty is too much naughty?
I'm linking up today at #iPPP.
