Especially if you have a puppy, not quite one year old, who will happily tear into Vasque hiking boots that you spent an hour getting fitted for in Asheville, North Carolina 15 years ago, and cost USD 150. I bought those at the end of few years of hiking and camping with kids, after realizing how idiotic I had been the first day of a five-day hiking trip on the Appalachian Trail, with backpack – racing a 15 year old boy, wearing cheap-ass Walmart-purchased hiking boots and very nearly twisting my ankle. I upgraded to the Vasques – and, oh yeah, then essentiality stopped hiking.
Turns out their construction is not essentially different – in terms of puppy teeth – to the last pair of middle-aged-man ankle-length “hikers” I bought at JC Penney last year for what – USD 30? Or Walmart? Alas, that was in Murka: nothing like that exists here: size 12 feet find little welcome. So they hang out of range of puppy teeth.
The Hiking Boot Thing is similar my Mountain Bike Thing: going “endo” over the handlebars of my mountain bike, tearing up and bloodying my shirt and cracking my helmet, riding down a root-addled trail in North Carolina, faster than I would otherwise, trying to keep up with two 13 year olds, one my adopted son. They were considerably shorter than me, so of course had a much lower center of gravity, as our bikes were more or less the same length,
Ah, the adopted son: he was brilliant at destroying things, and soon needed a new bike. Shopping, I was appalled at prices. Again, this is fifteen years ago, but look at this – who would pay USD 1,200 for a mountain bike? The clerk explained that Gary Fisher was a couple inches taller than me, and designed bikes with “cockpits” – distance from seat to handlebars – to effectively lower the relative height overall. In other words, make it harder to go “endo.”
He offered that I could ride it around the parking lot, and after “busting” a curb or two, I knew who would pay $1,200 for a mountain bike. Me.
And then, of course, we moved to Spokane. I rode a couple trails. We moved to Mexico. Eventually I left it with my several-years Myspace friend Hektor Dangus to sell in Austin, Texas.
And the fake Crocs? Well, yeah, they are fake Crocs – but left at floor level, simply chew toys.
I am surprised that he who can leap on tall counters in a single bound has not found a way to liberate a shoe or two.
Actually, the counter he leaped onto was not our above-average-height kitchen counters. Like many, he prefers low-hanging fruit. He often camps out three steps up our staircase, where I made a little gate, and has more than once chewed off what apparently are called “black plastic toggle spring clasps,” from insulated vests we bought 20 years ago at Sam’s Club, hanging on our coat rack, and never used to cinch the waist in any event. So not agreeable behavior, but no great loss.
Why he jumped on the counter in the barbacoa – my workshop – remains a bit of a mystery, but he has shown that he really likes to play with paint rollers, and after their washing, that’s probably where he filched them a couple times. “Counter surfing.”
My dog only chews my shoes if I’m wearing them.
I watched a Doggy Dan video on the subject yesterday. If you want to train the dog out of this behavior, you need to direct attention to something else to chew, preferably something with similar “mouth feel.” Gently distract him/her with it. After enough times, he/she will get the idea that your shoes are not for chewing.
Unfortunately, our chewing activity has mostly happened when we’re not here.