A few weeks ago you met Cleo.

You remember her – short, furry, adorable mugshot.  Well, let’s just say that she’s been very busy since I last wrote about that little puppy wandering into our calm and peaceful lives back in May, although not exactly because she’s been spending her time learning how to dance or writing the Great American Novel like some other extraordinarily successful beagles who are loved by millions and even have their picture on the MetLife blimp…

No, instead thus far Cleo has chosen to pursue a simpler route in life.  Specifically, Cleo likes to chew on things.

Correction: Cleo loves to chew on things!

From her warped, little doggy perspective, it’s by far the most important thing that she does each day, and she’s very dedicated to her craft.  If it was a rock ‘n roll act, MTV would invite her to come do it live alongside Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake at the Super Bowl Half-Time Show.  If she could figure out a way to monetize her habit, Chewing, Inc. would be one of the most profitable dog-led corporations on the New York Stock Exchange.  If chewing was an Olympic sport, she’d win the gold medal in a heartbeat … and then subsequently proceed to chew it to pieces in the next.

I mean, don’t get me wrong – of course on one hand I’m most certainly proud of her commitment to excellence and dare I say impressed by how much she’s been able to accomplish in just a few short weeks, but at the same time, this household is running out of flip-flops and bath towels and couches at an alarming rate!  I think I’ve lost track of how many different ways I’ve said, “Cleo, don’t chew on the ________!” with that blank featuring everything from our dresser to the garbage can to even my own hands and fingers! Apparently that whole thing about not biting the hand that feeds you is something that puppies pick up much, much later in their careers…

Frankly, at this point I’m just happy that she hasn’t somehow managed to systematically reduce the entire house down into one big, gooey, chewed up mess that I’d later have to try my best to suck up with the vacuum cleaner after finding it with my foot at three o’clock in the morning.  And it probably kind of goes without saying that tensions are at an all-time high as this little dental deviant gnaws her way through everything even remotely solid that she can fit her mighty incisors around, but really, what options do we have left when putting things on top of taller things appears only to slow her down while she reprioritizes to start chewing her way through the latest piece of furniture that all of our shoes and other tasty, household goods have taken refuge balancing on top of?

Seriously, I’m starting to wonder if somehow we got duped into adopting a beaver instead of a beagle! Maybe I’ve just been overlooking the gigantic tail all this time, and it would kind of explain that dam we found in the bathtub the other day…

I suppose all I can really hope for is that eventually she’ll chew herself right out of a job when we literally run out of everything, which at her current rate should be sometime before the end of the summer, by my estimate, and at that point then she’ll have to stop … right?  Right?!  I mean, lord help us all if she ever gets back out into the wild and those jaws are able to just roam the land free and clear, gnawing and chomping a path of destruction and chaos from sea to shining sea.

She is afraid of the water, so Asia should still be safe – for now, anyways…