Broken Arrow

Brains or beauty? I think Arrow is smarter than me—in an evil sort of way. But I am cute and cuddly. Take walks as they come. Don’t scratch at cabinet doors for food. Don’t sneak around chewing things. Or bark when the neighbors are sleeping.

Arrow waits for the door to open and runs out. He barks at me when he wants to play.

And he likes to chew stuff. He loves library books. He chewed the cover of Articles of War which is Denver Mayor Hickenlooper’s book of the year. It looks boring.

Then he chewed the end off the bearded one’s favorite belt. He goes in my mom’s coat pockets when she’s not looking. Yesterday he found a chap stick and ate some. He ate some gum too.

He's been pooping on the rugs even though we go out for lots of walks. Yesterday he pooped in the house early—before our morning walk. Again before my mom came home from work. And again after two other walks. If my mom puts him in his cage he barks and cries. She's been growling a lot. Later he ran away when she accidentally let go of the leash. I chased him. We both had leashes on so some people on the street grabbed us.

I’m scared. My owner mom is ready to kill Arrow. She thinks he might be better if he was the only dog—in someone else’s house. But she loves him. And she knows I like to wrestle with him and take his stuff. She has been too mad to go on the internet. And too busy cleaning up poop.

Some of my ideas for keeping Arrow:
1. Move to the dog park so he can run around outside all the time
2. Put plastic all over the floors. Arrow can chew it and poop on it.
3. Doggie diapers? Yuk
4. Save up and take Arrow to a psychiatrist