What’s a parent to do?
In an effort to socialize our puppy, we take her out when and where we can. Recently, on several of our ventures, we’ve stopped at a random patch of grass to let her out of her pink and green doggy purse to tinkle and/or poop. As she scours around the foreign green, she almost always ends up chewing on a discarded cigarette butt. Or nine of them. My dog. My pure, virtuous, infant dog.
I think she’s addicted.
That’s why I bought her the Nicorette patch on Saturday, but it ripped off too much hair when I pulled it off her belly, so today I exchanged what was left of the box for the gum instead, and that’s working much better.
As punishment, she is no longer allowed to chew up US Weekly, watch Access Hollywood, or take a turn at the wheel while I’m driving. If I don’t take a stand now, she’ll be shaving her head, doing time, and bawling to Larry King about it.
I heard raising girls was harder than boys. I should have listened.
