Well, shoes better not be on dessert menu

While I know you're probably tired of hearing about the adventures of my family's canines, I have to tell you the latest. (If you're really sick of dog stories, skip ahead to the next page.)

Roxy is the cutest puppy ever. Hands down. Bar none. Her cuteness gets her a lot of attention, and it's hard to stay mad at her.

But last week, I swear, I was ready to send her to the doggy equivalent of the glue factory.

The little beast ate my new jacket. A really gorgeous washable mink-colored suede jacket I got at Nordstrom Rack in Tukwila. On Monday.

When I got home Wednesday, I was tired and bummed out. I hung the jacket on the kitchen chair, made a cup of tea and went upstairs to finish some work.

While my husband was running a couple of errands and my daughter was playing a video game, Jake, our older dog, curled up by my feet and fell asleep.

I was clearly in the ozone. I didn't wonder where Roxy was or why she was so quiet. (A quiet dog spells trouble, if you've never had the pleasure.)

I worked about an hour. My daughter didn't bat an eyelash at the silence downstairs, either.

After my husband got home, Roxy barked and got yelled at for jumping on him.

A minute later I heard this:

"Roxy, what did you do? Huh? What did you do?"

Silence. Then footsteps.

Then: "Roxy! Bad girl!"

Something big and flimsy hit the floor a few times.

Hmm. I headed down to see what was up.

There stood my husband, hitting the floor with my new suede jacket.

"I hope you didn't like this jacket," he said to me, smacking the floor with it again.

(I owned it for three days and had worn it twice. You do the math.)

I had kind of a sick feeling when I grabbed the jacket from him. I knew there'd be damage, but I didn't think it would be that obvious. Roxy has a little mouth — how bad could it be?

The left sleeve was half gone. Gone. Like someone had taken scissors to it. Sheesh.

It's my own fault. I know this. I should have hung it in the closet, where it belonged.

Even though the little beast ruined my jacket, I couldn't help but be a little impressed. That was some amazing eating.

Cindy Zetts: 253-234-8602 or czetts@seattletimes.com