THE MELLIPOP COUCH : PROGRESS REPORT

Ok, so from the "If You Don't Laugh, You Cry" files, I thought I'd post a progress report on the state of our Staffy-mangled couch, for lack of anything else much to report right now.

And I am posting this because I'm not quite sure that my friends and colleagues can really envisage the level of devastation I refer to almost daily on an anecdotal basis.

This is our couch. Nothing short of MONUMENTALLY EMBARASSING - I am painfully aware of that.

Note that one of the cushions is missing. No, not missing. Eaten, to be precise. Note the painstaking craftsmanship that has gone into stripping both armrests of all material and padding, and the delicate decorative nibbling work that has gone on at the front.

My two Staffy's are slowly destroying my life and my property like a pack of crazy fucking furniture piranhas. As each day passes, more and more of what is left of my couch disappears.

And may I just say that NONE of the breed-specific literature we consulted before initially welcoming Staffies into our household refer to this particular quirk of character.

Ok, so that rather feeble excuse only holds up on acquisition of Staffy Number 1. Why we got Number 2 I will NEVER fucking understand...

Oh that's right. Because they love us. Unconditionally. And because they teach us about love. Unconditionally.

Fat lot of good that'll do me when I'm sitting on the fucking floor.