Cody still lives here; that is the amazing part. I think I have figured out how he has managed to avoid a one-way ticket to anywhere but here.

Alexis loves him, and he loves her.

If it weren't for that? I can't promise a thing.

Very early in his still-young life (he's six months now), the pooch proved that he is a more masterful escape artist than Houdini. He can get out of any kennel we put him in, can jump over any barriers we create, and can find his way out of a locked room. We don't know how; we just know he cannot be contained. Period.

Thus, he was granted full reign over the house when we are gone. It all started about a month ago, and for a long while, all was well. He and Meg get along fabulously, and they seemed to do a good job of keeping each other company.

Then something happened.

I don't know what, I just know that little dude is seeking out things to do while we are gone.

Make that things to DESTROY while we are gone.

Every day. Every single day he actively seeks out something to rip to shreds. Mr. Husband and I both do a full house sweep in the morning before we leave to try to hide/put up anything we think he might get into, but it doesn't work. He just finds ways to climb up high enough to reach what he wants, or finds something we missed.

Like a chair.

Oh, yes. If he can't find some sort of paper product (he prefers boxes above all else), he starts looking for wood to gnaw on. WOOD. Like our couch.

That's not even the worst of what he has done. It's the worst of what I'm willing to immortalize in photos. If I were to take a photo of the upstairs banister, I'm pretty sure I would end up making Havanese stew the next day.

He has plenty to chew on (there are freakin' bones lying next to every. single. one. of those things he destroyed in the photos above). He has company. He really doesn't care if we are or are not home. HE JUST LIKES TO SHRED THINGS.

I'd like to shred him. Alexis' love for him is the only thing stopping me.