The Pony and I arrived home yesterday around 5:00. We were greeted by the #1 son, who handed me a package. "I found this on the front porch. That's exactly how it looked."
It was a brown 7 x 10 bubble-wrap-padded envelope with one side chewed out and the top heavily damaged. I can only blame new pup Juno for this carnage. The other dogs have not eaten a package since the black shepherd Ann was an adolescent, and chewed up Farmer H's Case Collector Knife. She ate the box and the Styrofoam and had the collectible box in her mouth when we came up the driveway. "Oh, look. I wonder what Ann's chewing on." #1 jumped out and rescued the treasure just in time.
Juno is that age. She's about four months, all gangly and loosey-goosey and boundingly playful with nobody to play with. The big dogs tolerate her now, give her a polite nose bump with a slight tail wag. But they won't romp with her. If she runs up to them while they're romping and wrestling, they stand stock still and look at her. Like, "B*tch. What's your problem?"
Silly me. I though the 27 assorted gnawing bones and squeaky chicken and rubber milk bone and three-ring rubber toy and mini basketball and rawhide chew sticks were enough. Apparently not. I thought of taking that package and rubbing her nose on it and spanking her with a rolled-up magazine. But I don't know if she has the memory to make the connection. More likely, she would look at me with sad, abandoned, starving puppy eyes while thinking, "Why New Mommy no like me now?"
So I put a note on the front and back doors for UPS and FedEx. "Please put packages in garage so dog does not eat them."
Today, the garage door raised to reveal four boxes. Kudos to UPS.