He looks sooo innocent.
And he is. He chews because he has to. I know that, but i don’t care much for it when he decides to chew on me. As a matter of fact, it can make me quite cantankerous and cross.
The dog trainer instructed us to give Toast a toy to chew on when he needs to chew. And we do, but some mornings he’s so joyful about the new day, he just wants me to be as excited as he is.
(An aside: the one dog we had as children was being cared for by a neighbor boy while we were on vacation. Or maybe i should say “cared for.” When we got home, Bernadine had chewed the daylights out of the living room couch. Only one end, but she really did a number on it.)
So, I went into this knowing that puppies chew! But I forgot how “good” it feels to have one chew on your hand or arm. We’re all learning. I’ve learned to put Kepler up high in the morning when he’s just getting started, or sometimes to put Toast back into his crate when i need more than two hands and two feet to handle everything at once.
I think I like him pretty well. I know Kepler does!