Charlie's chewing

Submitted by: Jen Dunville

Charlie is a wonderful dog, unless of course you value your belongings.
Every day, I hesitate to open my front door because I never know what I’ll find upon entering.
Usually, there’s Charlie, my seven-month-old Lab-Newfoundlander mix, with a guilty expression on his face.
I’m sure my veterinarian thinks I’m mistreating him because I’m calling almost every week.
“Charlie ate the remote for our television, is he going to be OK?”
“Charlie consumed my favorite pair of heels, is that going to pass through his system?”
“Charlie chewed up two pieces of pottery today, along with an entire $30 bag of those freeze-died liver treats. Should I bring him in?”
The kicker came about two days ago.
Charlie had torn a large hole in a quilt made out of scraps of cloth belonging to my late grandmother. There were pieces of material older than me in that quilt and every square held a memory.
It was the first time Charlie made me cry.
Now I have to get up extra early every morning to pick up everything within his reach.
It’s stressful coming home because I never know what he’s going to get into.
I’m at my wits end.