A few weeks after Phoebe came to live with us I had to travel for work, leaving her at home with the family. Rumor has it that she kept sniffing around until she found one of my shoes. When she found it she dragged it to her bed and just kept it next to her – supposedly she wasn’t chewing on it; it was just her little security blanket.
Now, she is on a new kick of stealing my socks. I could understand digging through the garbage looking for scraps of food, but that would be too normal. Instead Phoebe’s form of mischief these days is to root through the hamper looking for my socks. I never catch her in the act. The only proof of the crime is finding a lone sock lying on the back lawn or in her bed. Every now and then she will sit beside me while I am working happily chomping on a chew toy, or shall I say I think she is happily chomping on one of her toys. When I look down I realize that I have been duped.
Phoebe has a way of swapping a chew toy for yesterday’s dirty sock. It is like she waits for me to blink before doing the switch-a-roo (very Houdini-like). Maybe someday she will amaze me by taking the shredded bits and spinning them into gold. Until then, I am going to try and put her in touch with the washing machine so they can coordinate. Ideally, whenever the washing machine eats a sock Phoebe can eat the other half of the pair, but somehow I don’t think I’ll be that lucky.
Maybe I will make her one of those sock monkeys.