Part Deux: The Legend of Mochi Mazer

Living with a hyperactive 12-13 week old Havapoo puppy named Mochi is an exercise in Barely Avoided Disasters…otherwise known as BAD. Even tho we scour the floors and living areas daily for health hazards and items forbidden to teeny tiny teething pups (basically everything), she still manages much like hardened criminals in prison to secretly acquire dangerous contraband and hide pieces of it in her cell, er I mean cage/crate. I’m talking about cleverly random but clearly hazardous items like a shirt button, a small shard of broken glass, a closed safety pin, a rubber band, pillow tags, and a punctured plastic sandwich bag. Is she planning an Alcatraz type escape attempt? Is she busy fashioning shivs and shanks late at night with her tiny razor sharp teeth and furry little paws while we sleep? One cannot know for sure with this miniature mastermind we call Mochi Mazer. What I can say for sure is that she remains utterly adorable while tempting fate and torturing us into questioning our fitness as puppy parents.

About captaincliff

Psychologist by day, insomniac Pirate blogger by night, this Child of God likes to share sarcastic social commentary as well as topsy-turvy observations about life, love and the pursuit of zaniness, a functional form of insanity in an increasingly insane world
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