One day last year I get ready to go outside, look for my hat. I knew I left it around here somewhere. No luck finding it in the house, so I look outdoors, sure as heck, there's my Stetson Crusher laying out on the lawn:
This young feller is the culprit. He takes things outside when we leave or he thinks we're going to, separation anxiety I guess. He doesn't chew stuff up as much as when younger, just makes us go looking:
giving his best "why you lookin' at me" look:
I never had a camera handy to catch the stuff this little one did. She loved to eat my wife's books or magazines left around when she went to work. Her shoes were a handy substitute. She also had a particular fondness for my leather goods, the ends of belts and once a sheath for an old Sharpfinger knife. Lucky she didn't hurt herself on that one as the knife was still in the sheath:
Geno