Bunny down.

He's been working on Lorelai's Easter bunny for a while. He finally ripped its face off. RIP, Easter bunny.

Bra.

That is the half-masticated strap of a one-month-old Victoria's Secret bra. Kevin had taken Torg on a walk while I showered, and they got home before I got dressed so the clothes I left sitting on the bed to change into were, apparently, up for grabs.

I think if I really thought about just how many dollars worth of stuff this dog has destroyed in the past two months, I would throw up. The slippers and the bra is over $100, destroyed in a week's time.

What annoys me most is that while he CHEWS on Kevin's stuff, my stuff is the only stuff he ever does actual damage to. Except the headset. But even that is still totally useable, if no longer pretty. Not sure why the dog has it in for my clothing over anyone else's in the house. Especially considering he doesn't seem to dislike me -- if anything, I'd argue that he adores me, if the way he follows me around and climbs in my lap and loses his fool mind whenever I return from an outing is any indication.

I just don't get it. Dogs are weird.

Headphones. Again.

I make Kevin wear these to play "Call of Duty" because I don't like the gun sounds. This is the second time Torg has gotten hold of them. (Somehow he seems to only do superficial damage, nothing that affects how they work, but still.)

You'd think we'd learn not to leave them where he can reach them. You'd also think we'd learn that he can reach anything that isn't behind closed doors.

I really, really loved these slippers.

I've been fighting the don't-eat-my-slippers battle since day one; looks like the closet door dust get closed and I finally lost. I'm really pissed, too. These slippers were really, really comfortable.

Pills

He hasn't actually destroyed pills, don't worry. I just thought this might be a good way to solicit pill-giving tricks from people.

I've wrapped them in cheese, ham, bread. He eats around them. I've tried shoving them down his throat. He gags them back up.

He's not generally a bright dog, but he's super smart at getting out of taking his meds.

Suggestions? Miracle tricks? Offers to come do it for me?

Gloves.

Oh hi, blog. I've been neglecting you.

Mostly because I've been very busy reading "Fifty Shaded of Oh-So-Bad-But-I-Can't-Stop-Reading", but also because Torg just hasn't been all that destructive lately. Thank God for crates, yes?

Although, as you can see above, he does get bored while Lorelai takes her baths. Sigh.