There is a thief in my house. A low down, dirty, sneaky thief. The thief strikes when you least expect it. When you are at your most complacent and relaxed. I first discovered the thief weeks ago - caught in the act! It seems Ryder has developed a passion. A passion for... underwear!
Yep, I said it. Underwear. Ryder will steal my underpants from the laundry basket, or even the garbage (which is where his past "loves" end up). His obsession started with socks. I thought I had taken care of it when I moved him onto pigs ears and bull sticks. Instead he found something better. He doesn't care if they're clean, or dirty. He seems to enjoy chewing on them.
He's been on lock up and supervised visits since...
I thought he had been cured. There had been a peaceful lull where underwear co-existed peacefully with us. And then the thief struck again! He had progressed to bras. And this had my full undivided attention. Unsuspectingly, I turned the corner into my bedroom. And there HE was. Caught red mouthed! My favorite red bra dangling from his mouth. He had pulled it off it's shelf! Sad ashamed eyes stared back at me, pleading for help. They said he had a problem. An addiction to women's lingerie. Poor guy. Wouldn't be the first... In shame, he crawled under the bed.
Moving my bra to safety I stared at him What on earth could I do to stop this?? I love my little Ryder dog, but the buck stops here. I am not the kind of girl who enjoys the Walmart 10 pack of panties. I'm the kinda girl who likes to go downtown to the shop that supplies the European lingerie. European equates to not cheap. On Saturday I had to guard my sorted laundry like gold! I caught him trying to sneak a piece of lace out of my sight! The little rotter...
Ryder has a problem. He's back in lock down. Banished to laundry and clothing free zones of the house. Poor fellow.
Someone please tell me this is just a stage.