Sunday, December 12, 2010
Coal for Cooper
I took the sweatshirt from Cooper and found that he had chewed the collar off. I yelled "Bad, Cooper, bad!". Coop just looked at me with unblinking eyes and showed no contrition.
I looked around the bedroom. There are balls, chew toys and tug toys scattered all over the floor. I do not understand why Cooper choose my sweatshirt over any of these.
Could the smell of the tacos I had made the night before lingered in my sweatshirt, making it an appealing plaything ?