Lumpy is my Dad's dog. He is an 85 pound lab/retriever/boxer mix. While he is large, he is the biggest wuss in the world. He once ran and hid when my beagle barked at him. Did I mention my beagle was 15 years old and wearing one of those cones around her neck they put on dogs after surgery? Yeah, Lump has the heart of a lion. My stepmom refers to him as the Longhaired Wimpdog.
Having said that, Lumpy simply loves to destroy his toys. For Christmas he was given a stuffed Santa. Within days he had ripped off Sant's head, arms, and legs. But then he would walk around with the little arm or leg sticking out of his mouth. And he still loves to gnaw on Santa's torso. Charming.
Last week I went to my Grandmother's house and Lumpy and my Dad were there. Grandma had another one of the Santa toys Lumpy had previously destroyed, and she gave it to him right before I arrived. When I walked into the room and saw Lumpy chewing on it, the following conversation took place:
Me: Isn't that the same Santa toy from before?
Dad: It's his favorite kind.
Me: So he hasn't managed to decapitate, disembowel, or defenestrate it yet?
Dad: Marg, just give him time.
Lumpy: *pops off Santa's head and runs off with it dangling from his mouth*
Dad: See?
You know what they say about good things and those who wait. Go Lumpy! Or as I affectionately call him, Lumpy McLumperson.
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