A Tale of Chewed Woodwork and Growing Pains
It’s funny where life takes us sometimes, isn’t it? One minute, you’re cozying up in your living room with a book, and the next, you’re traipsing around the house like a frantic puppy-parent, trying to figure out why your beloved four-legged friend has suddenly decided that your hardwood floor is the latest in gourmet chew toys. That was my reality last summer after we brought home Benny, a scruffy little Labrador mix who had more energy than a squirrel on a sugar high.
Now, I love woodwork. There’s just something satisfying about the smell of pine as you sand it down or the sound of the saw cutting through a solid piece of oak. My garage is my sanctuary, filled with all sorts of tools — hand sanders, a beloved circular saw, even that old jigsaw I inherited from my dad. He taught me a lot about building things, and I figured I’d inherit that knack. However, I quickly realized training a puppy was a whole different ballgame.
The Chewing Chronicles
At first, Benny was adorable. I mean, who doesn’t love watching a puppy flop around? But that cuteness quickly devolved into chaos when I caught him gnawing on the corner of my lovely oak bookshelf. Oh, the horror! My mind flashed back to the countless hours I spent meticulously crafting that thing, sanding it down to a smooth finish and sealing it to protect from scratches. And there he was, mouthful of splinters and a goofy look on his face that suggested he was completely unphased by the crime he was committing.
I almost gave up on puppy ownership that day. What was I thinking? Maybe it was madness. So, there I was, sipping lukewarm coffee, staring at the half-eaten bookshelf like I had just stumbled upon a crime scene. After a moment of desperate contemplation, I figured maybe I just needed to outsmart him.
The World of Deterrents
I started scouring the internet. I wish I could say I knew what to do right off the bat — you know, some magic formula for fixing bad chewing habits — but nope, not me. I fell down that rabbit hole of DIY deterrents, finding everything from citrus sprays to bitter apple simulated dog-scenting concoctions. I remember standing in the local hardware store, feeling like I was in an episode of “Nailed It” but for puppies.
“Sir,” the clerk said, eyeing my dubious cart filled with odd items. “Are you sure you want to go with the lemon-scented repellent? It’s a bit… pungent.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I mumbled, thinking about my beloved bookshelves and how they’d never know the taste of a solid puppy-free existence again if this continued.
Trial and Error
So, back at home, I began my experiments. I would spray the furniture, claiming my territory back one cautious squirt at a time. I laughed when it actually worked. Benny took a single sniff, immediately recoiling like I’d splashed vinegar in his face. But wouldn’t you know it? The moment I turned my back, he was right back at the wood again, gumming away like there was no tomorrow, blissfully unaware of my laborious attempts to curb his enthusiasm.
At my wits’ end, I hit the local pet store. I shelled out some cash for a few chew toys packaged with promises that if I gave them a shot, Benny would direct all that energy into something more appropriate. The toy was textured, rubbery, and came in a bright shade of red. Here’s the catch: I think it was designed for a Great Dane or something, and Benny was, well, a bit smaller than that. Watching him wrestle with it was kind of comical—like watching a toddler try on a pair of adult shoes.
The Light Bulb Moment
Eventually, after trying and failing and trying again, I found my “aha!” moment while lounging in my garage during one of those lazy summer evenings. I realized I had all these leftover wood scraps — bits of cedar, cherry, and walnut — that I’d never find the use for. So, what if I made him some chew toys from that? The cedar, in particular, has a lovely aromatic smell that I thought he might find interesting.
After a little trial and error — having to put on those nerve-wracking safety goggles to cut small pieces into shapes — I ended up with a couple of simple blocks. Just my old jigsaw, some sandpaper, and a bit of elbow grease. When I gave Benny one to chew, he went nuts. Like, literal happiness erupted in my garage. I chuckled, thinking to myself, this might actually work. Who would’ve thought some homemade dog toys could replace my cherished furniture?
Reflection
Fast forward to now, and let me tell you, Benny is grown, way past the teething phase. He has his designated chew toys, and my poor bookshelf is patchy, but alive, thanks to my make-do repairs. I learned a lot through this journey — not just about dog-proofing my home but also about creativity and resilience. And you know what? Every scratch on that wood now holds a story, a memory of my trial-and-error phase with Benny.
If you’re thinking about getting a puppy, just go for it. But maybe grab a crate and some wood scraps first — trust me, you’ll thank yourself later.
