Pillow Carnage

After a dozen I stopped counting. The trouble is that the wrath against the pillows would come without warning. After months of what must have been an uneasy peace between the stuffed faction and the canine, it would start again. Sometimes a would be sacrifice was drug out to the living room, unharmed, but marked for death.

Other times it would be a polite pull off of the pillowcase, and corner bite to allow the stuffing to ooze out, but not render the pillow completely useless. Then the tactical strikes would begin. In a single sitting upwards of five pillows could be taken out. All rendered useless by a midsection tear or an across the top rip.

The sofa accent pillows never saw it coming. After years of not even acknowledging each other they were gone- left as carcasses to be cleaned up on the battlefield carpet. The replacements were gone within a month. Reclining watching TV now involves folding up blankets to create a headrest on the couch. Mainly out of fear that there must be a limit to how many pillows a person can really purchase on a rolling basis.

The morning routine involves stuffing the bed pillows in a closet and making sure it is firmly closed. The couch pillows used to get tossed up the loft stairs. All held hostage by the canine inhabitant.

But yesterday there was a sneak attack that went unnoticed. As I rounded the top of the stairs this morning with laundry in hand I glanced to my left and saw the tell tale signs of battle, fluff. Scattered across the papers waiting to be sorted by the lateral file, the final guest bedroom pillow had fallen. Quietly and without fanfare the ranks had been once again thinned.

Looks like it's time to go Target the replacements. It's getting hard and harder to find volunteers.