Diva Destructo the Cannonball Dog

In a recent visit to my insurance agent, a gray-nose Labrador poked her nose over the desk to greet me. Kris, her owner, said she used to keep small dog snacks for her customers to give to Sonnet. The practice stopped when the canine discovered a way to climb onto the desk for her treat, surprising the outstretched hands. Sonnet, with slow moving legs and a young moving tail, started coming to work with Kris when her companion dog graduated to the place where dogs eternally chase squirrels and run free.

I understood. We keep dogs in pairs, and when the last dog is alone, she will probably have a bed in the back of my car.

Our last dog will be "Diva Destucto, the Cannonball Dog".

We’ve had four dogs in our marriage. Each with unique puppy catastrophes. Ty, a handsome full breed German Shepherd, became our first pet, our gentle giant. He spent his first year living outside so his puppy damage was limited. Ty took out a few hoses, a couple of books and an occasional shoe. His chewing favored the daughter's fluffy slippers and stuffed animals. He kept our dining room floor clean and somehow could separate a pill from a giant wad of cheese with ease, spitting it back on the floor. He engaged in sibling rivalry with our daughter, who by the way, is the reason we gained the other three dogs.

Reese, the last puppy left from a giveaway in the Walmart parking lot, came next. He was the runt - the former owners called him "Tiny". Our daughter renamed him Reese because of his dark fur with light colored legs. (Get it? Chocolate dipped in peanut butter?) Reese was one part Rottweiler and one part Golden Retriever morphed into a hyperactive, overly protective companion. He came to us because neither Joe nor I could think of a reason to say no to our 11-year-old. The daughter stayed in the car with her puppy while I stepped into the pet store to pick up food and formula. I returned and started to take several plastic bags off my driver seat.

“No, don’t move them,” the daughter said.

Reese entered my world by urinating on my seat. The daughter was lucky she wasn’t old enough to drive.

His chewing specialty was finding our laundry and dragging it through the house, prompting me to purchase laundry baskets with lids. Bathroom trained and kenneled until Ty learned how to open the door, he and Ty pretty much kept our home safe.

The daughter decided to go live with her mom for awhile and Reese became our dog. We enjoyed the faithful love and energy of Ty and Reese. Life was fine with the four of us.

Then the daughter found a boyfriend and the boyfriend found a dog. The daughter and boyfriend got married. Then came the divorce ... and Athena, once their dog, now lives with us. Since she arrived as a two-year-old, she had dropped most of her puppy chewing but we called her the "Escape Dog." Athena found her way out of almost any fence, kennel or room. She and Reese started arguing for the beta position. Alpha was made clear the day Athena tried to eat out of Ty’s dish when she was a puppy. When I went to bed, all three dogs went to bed. Ty slept on the floor, while Reese and Athena tried to maneuver closest to me in an odd dog pile routine.

With three dogs ranging from 65 to 100 pounds sharing our home with us, Joe and I started talking about “after the dogs” and “when the dogs are gone” as we made plans for our future.

Until the daughter came to visit with a new boyfriend and new dog. We aren’t really sure of the details, but she and the boyfriend broke up while they were visiting. Yep. She walked out the door and left us with the boyfriend and the dog. The boyfriend recognized the awkwardness, politely thanked us for dinner, and found a way home. The dog, Diva, became our “oops” dog.

Diva earned her nickname "Cannonball Dog." Coming in at 45 pounds, stealth was not her forte. She ran, jumped and landed with such force that lamps could topple. Destructo marks her ability to destroy the indestructible.

Joe had an extra tough phone that had been lost and returned twice, dropped in lakes, ran over by countless trucks and fallen two stories to the ground multiple times. It lasted him four years. Diva took it out in a day. If she could get her mouth on it she could destroy it. A solid pair of garden shears, Joe’s electric toothbrush, my wedding shoes and then she started on the remotes.

Not only would she chew the remote, but she would change the channel and lock it in place. We spent a weekend with Spike and another weekend on the community channel. She took out two more clickers. We replaced them. Then another. We tried to remember to put them up, but hey, they were remotes. Who remembers to put up the remotes? Pretty soon we started going to cable stores on the other side of town - South Anchorage, Palmer, Wasilla - all to remain somewhat anonymous rather than be recognized as the people with the remote devouring dog. All in all, I figure she mangled over 25 remotes.

Diva had to be kenneled when we left home - basically so we would have a home when we returned. Athena had an open door kennel, but handled herself well. I purchased two comfy pillows for their lairs and kenneling seemed to stop the problem.

Until the day we forgot to latch Diva’s door.

To explain the condition of our living room upon my return, I quote the neighbor kid, “Looks like someone had fun.”

I was too impressed to be mad.

The new pillows had been pulled from the cages and gutted with the stuffing spread into the living area. The couch cushions were dragged onto the floor, the foam insides chewed and spit out wherever the pillow stuffing didn’t hide it. The back of the couch and the front skirting stood exposed and destroyed in large sections. Several ravenously shredded books lay next to the toppled air cleaners. Odd shoes and articles of clothing pulled the chaos together. Then I noticed the pills.

There were hundreds of pills all over the floor. Yellow pills. Blue pills. White pills. The dogs knocked down my sealed Tupperware container of old medication destined for the annual drug disposal. Soon I was crawling frantically on the floor, lifting pillows, moving stuffing and reaching into cracks to find the pills. I had to count them. I had to make sure they hadn’t taken a pill ... wait. What dog do you know that eats pills? Every single pill was accounted for but the plastic containers were trashed.

The only reason the dogs (yes, Athena got in on the fun) were saved from my wrath was the fact that my favorite Tupperware bowl and lid were still usable. There are teeth marks in the lid - I must have come home just in time.

Joe wasn’t as impressed and my siblings aren't happy that Diva chewed up the couch once belonging to our mom. But Diva has turned into a faithful and loving dog. Athena is now the alpha, but her beta is her best bud.

Diva stays in the yard with us, loves to cuddle and keeps our dining room floor clean. She sticks to one toy, a sheet of green rubber with a tail and a couple of deformed legs that used to be a squeaky dinosaur. We had to get another remote the other day. Diva had nothing to do with it.