My Life With Two German Shorthair Pointers

My Life With Two German Shorthair Pointers

Gypsy is now a little over one year old.  She hasn’t slowed down at all but at least Gypsy 2016the destruction has.  She is fully aware that she has done something wrong but just can’t seem to help herself.  I believe she has learned right from wrong but every once in a while the puppy brain takes over and wins over her logic.  One and a half weeks before Thanksgiving, my oven/stove went on the brinks. The technician came a stated that the electronic panel (the oven’s brains) had to be sent in to be refurbished because they don’t carry replacement for that model anymore.  All was fine until he said it would take 3-4 weeks to get back.  That would not do!  Thanksgiving was a week away!  Besides not being able to cook for the holiday, I would be going a whole month without being able to cook a meal.  I pouted, yelled and begged but there was nothing else that could be done.  I didn’t want to go out and buy a new one just yet.

One week later, two days before Thanksgiving, I received several boxes.  I had ordered Christmas gifts, so I didn’t think anything of it.  I stacked them up on the dining room table with the smallest at the top figuring that Gypsy would be able to move the biggest on the bottom or reach the smallest at the top.  The next day I arrive home from work to find little pieces of cardboard all over the living room My Life With Two German Shorthair Pointersfloor. I gasped “Oh no!  Gypsy dropped ears and tail and slithered away to the kitchen.  I frantically searched for the contents of the box wondering which Christmas present she had destroyed. I ran around the backyard and found this panel which looked like it was part of some electronic item.  I reviewed the list of presents in my mind as I looked for the rest of the item.  Thinking it was too much for her to consume, although I wouldn’t put it past her, I went back in oven partsearch for some piece of label the would give me a clue.  All the was left of the shipping label was about an inch square but I could see the letters “REFUR”  OMG! It was the oven panel!  The technician must have felt sorry for me after all and put a major rush on it.  I went against the tech’s instructions and hooked it up to the oven myself.  Oven didn’t work.  Thinking to myself or maybe out loud, very loud “Oh no, she destroyed it! I’m having a cookie party in a week and I won’t be able to bake! Augh!”  I took it back out three times; each time straightening more little tiny wires. Finally, the fourth time around the oven lit up and actually worked.  So for now Gypsy is still with us cuddling with Simba.

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