Today Sewell did another bad thing.
But this time I fell for her game, and she and I are now partners in crime.
I was working away on my computer when I heard a snore. It sounded like a dog snore, but I couldn’t see any dogs, so I ignored it and continued working.
Then I heard it again. I stood up and searched the room, but saw no puppy dogs, nor anything else that could have made a snore-like sound. When I heard it the third time, I finally found the source.
Sewell had found a warm and snug place to sleep behind the couch. The couch sits against a floor length window. She was cozied against the window in the space between the back of the couch, sleeping under a cover of lace curtains. The sun was shining brightly, and must have felt good on her black coat.
Well, upon my discovery of her, she awoke, (again, instantly super-excited) and proceeded to forcefully and awkwardly twist herself out of the small space and lace and lunge towards me.
Dogs aren’t graceful when they are tangled and trapped. Especially puppies. Especially Sewell.
Before I could start to help her out, her claws got caught in the lace, and within seconds she had mummified herself within the curtain. She sat confused for a minute, like an oversized cocoon.
“Hold on, girl” I began, but without waiting for me, she clawed and chomped her way through the curtain and scrambled out.
In the few seconds I had to intervene, do you know what I did? I grabbed my camera.
I know, I should really stop thinking that the bad things she does are cute. But I can’t help it. Come on. A staffy that’s wrapped herself up in a lace curtain? Adorable.
I moved on with my day and thought not too much more about the curtain. However, my work resumed in another part of the house, leaving Sewell and her toy lace curtains unattended.
This was my mistake, leaving her alone, because Sewell only wants to play, with anyone or anything, all day long. (I don’t know why I can never remember to look after animals and young children. It’s like the time I left my boss’s 4 year old alone to play “pretend hair salon” with real scissors. My mind just turns off.)
When my roommate returned, not only did she discover the disheveled curtain, she had discovered it was now severely ripped. There is a Sewelly-sized hole that is too big to assume is part of the delicate lace pattern. In fact, Sewell’s puppy teeth had dragged the curtain out from the couch to be displayed with pride in full view for her mama to see.
This is a bad thing that has happened. We are but mere renters, and the curtains belong to our landlord.
But whose fault is this? The dog’s, because she did it, or mine, because I took a picture of it happening instead of stopping it?
Perhaps I will try to get Sewell to re-enact what she did. That way, the landlords will also be distracted by how cute she looks draped in lace, tucked away in the sun, and they’ll forgive us and just go buy a new curtain.
Yes, that’s my plan. When the curtain tear is discovered, I think it’s best to let Sewell take the rap instead of me. Between the two of us, she’s probably the one who is more forgivable.