Furry Ferocity

Kramer is a spoiled dog. I will be the first to admit this. She gets away with way too much, but she's so stinking cute.

Portrait of Kramer.

Because she's so cute, she gets treats and fun squeaky toys. And walks. And scratches. (Side note: Apparently the major holidays are big in the dog toy world so we go to the store after the holiday and get themed toys on clearance. Consequently, Kramer gets new Christmas toys January and new Halloween toys in November. She doesn't seem to mind.) She has a pile of toys at her disposal and she picks and chooses which one to play with with no apparent rhyme or reason.

Deciding between the purple monkey and the red, white, and blue (Fourth of July) bone.

Every once in a while she gest mighty focused on one of her toys and it becomes a casualty of her 11 pounds of ferocity.

The squeaky red and green (Christmas) ball is a favorite for Kramer's ferociousness.

A couple of weeks ago, she decided to attack a blue dog that had two squeakers, one in the head and one in the tail. We bought this toy for her at some point last summer so she's had plenty of opportunity to play with it, but none of us could have predicted that its demise would come on a night in the middle of February. First, Kramer ripped the head of the body and promptly started removing the stuffing to get at the plastic squeaker. I took that piece away and mistakenly thought the rest of the toy would survive for at least a few more weeks. After she got the body and tail of the toy back, she mercilessly tore at the coils of the body until more stuffing came out. At that point, the toy was toast and I had to place it in its final resting place.

If she could, I think she'd climb in the trash can and attack it some more.

 Moral of the story, don't squeak around Kramer. Sooner or later, she will get you.