The Cottage Smallholder

Even at eight months our pup chews everything. Clothes pegs, lighters, ice cubes, sea shells and now two pairs of my spectacles (actually it’s three pairs now: updated March 2007). As Danny spelt out on the fridge with the magnetic letters that she had not yet gobbled up, ˜Inca is a goat amongst Min Pins.’

This morning I managed to prise open her jaws and retrieve a large and presumably tasty cheque and noticed a glint behind her in the gloom of the basket (a sort of fur igloo). My second pair of specs lay in pieces. She had crept onto the sofa and lifted them gently off my nose as I slept waiting for our chutney to thicken in the early hours of the morning.

To my delight I managed to put them back together but when I slipped them on I realised that the expensive trifocal lenses (hand ground especially for me by executive gnomes in Switzerland) had been gnawed, clawed and extensively enjoyed. The top of the lenses are relatively bite free, so if I keep looking ahead, my vision is clear (perhaps there is a message in this). It’s when I look down that the world is spotted with tiny fuzzy bite marks.

This morning I went to give a couple a quote for a job and noticed that the wife was observing my unusual spectacles. As well as the patina of miniature bite marks, they do now sit at rather a rakish angle. When I explained the problem she nodded sagely and said, ˜You need Vicks Vapour Rub.’

Apparently, if you smear this vapour rub on things, the smell repels a puppy. And all chewing will stop. She assured me that it works well on rugs and furniture. I plan to buy some today.

I doubt that you can smear it on cheques.