How do you spell trouble?

T-U-C-K-E-R

Apparently Tucker's going through a phase right now: he's turned into a destructive teenage boy. At least he hasn't gone pyro. Yet.

Tucker's been out of the crate and able to freely roam the house when we're gone for quite a while now. We had no problems with either dog up until just before Christmas when Tucker decided magazines and a Southern Living book were his new chew toys. So I got him some new toys, figuring he was bored with his old ones.

He still chewed on magazines. So we put those all away, hid the wedding album in case he had his eye on that, and we confined the dogs to the bonus room. Tucker got one of my books and used it for distraction one day so guess where he ended up the next day? In his crate.

But in the war between metal and mastiff, the mastiff wins. Just like he's done in the past, Tucker pushed his way through the bars and into freedom.





































He still had plenty of energy left, though, and took it out on several stuffed items.

Like a couple pillows that had been on the couch.
















And the round dog bed that Morgan loved. It wasn't a pretty scene to find at the end of the day.
































The McHusband was home first and he said Tucker was wearing his "Not me" face...along with some evidential feathers that were stuck to his mouth.

Fingers crossed that this is just a phase Tucker's going through, and he'll grow out of it quickly. He will be three next month.

If he lives that long.