The Two Reasons We Can't Have Nice Things (One Human, One Canine, Both Anti-Decorative-Accessory)

Come on down, Turquoise Chevron Throw!  You're the next contestant on "Little Kid Carelessly Shoves Stuff Off of the Couch That the Dorgi Dog Sleep-Chews a Hole In."  Of course, Little Kid proclaims zero knowledge of how you got on the floor.  Same stuff, different day (and different piece of home decor). 

At this point I don't think there's a throw pillow left in the house that has all four of its corners.  But that is about to change, because I have decided to turn YOU into two pillow covers.  Dorgi Dog was nice enough to chew a hole in your exact center, so I've got some yardage to work with.  While the sewing machine is out, I'm going to take the time to triage all of your throw pillow brethren.

I'm intent on salvaging you, because I really like you - a point that I drove home to the Little Kid:

"Do you know how long I searched to find a blanket that was just the right color, weight and fabric?  I WILL LIKELY NEVER FIND AN EXACT REPLACEMENT.  And, ironically enough, last night I saw a blanket that I almost liked as much - ALMOST - but I didn't buy it because I ALREADY HAD A BLANKET THAT I LIKED.  So now I have to go BACK to that store, when I could have taken care of business LAST NIGHT."

[Yeah, yeah.  Hashtag-firstworldproblems.  Reader, your reaction was probably the same as Little Kid's.  Eye roll much?]

The annoying thing, Turquoise Chevron Throw (yes, even more annoying than HAVING TO DRIVE BACK TO THE STORE - in a RAINSTORM, no less) was that when I logged on to the World Market Web site to see if they had anything similar to you, THERE YOU WERE, still in stock a year later.  So much for my "I'll never find this item again" speech.  I considered repurchasing you, but I decided that I kind of liked the idea of Throw Pillow You better.  So I bought this:

Well, not this - this is actually the Jonathan Adler version that I covet, but is no longer in stock, and even if it was, I would never buy it, because that would be the equivalent of shoving several hundred dollars down a wood chipper - or into the mouth of a small dachshund/corgi crossbreed, which is basically the same thing.  Instead, I got the Max Studio knock-off, which is sweater-knit, like this:

Sweater-knit intrigues me, because I have no idea what Ace the Batdog thinks about sweaters as a food source.  He has never attempted to ingest one, but that might be less of a no-motive thing and more of a no-opportunity thing.  So, kind of morbidly fascinated to find out how he will react if when Little Kid tosses Green Greek Key Throw his direction.

In my mind, I tell myself that all of the chewing will go away once we replace Little Kid's loft bed with bunks, making it physically possible for Dorgi Dog to sleep with Little Kid in the lower bunk and elevating his happiness quotient to amps-on-eleven.  Dorgi Dog LOVED napping with Little Kid on the old couch, which was low enough for Mister Stubby Legs to access.  The new couch is too tall for him to jump on - by design, because he ATE THE LAST COUCH.  Seriously, chewed the welting off of all of the back pillows.  So why, exactly, do I think that giving him access to LK's bed is a good thing?  Because (1) I am delusional, (2) I really do love both of them (home décor damage notwithstanding, they are both good eggs), (3) they REALLY love each other, and (4) seeing them happy together warms my heart.

And so it is that I have THIS on order:

A duvet cover that looks like chevron but is actually a repeating pattern of waves and shark maws!  For my shark-obsessed child's lower bunk!  And for my adorable-but-orally-fixated dog to tear to pieces!

Meh, it was on sale.  And did I mention that I really like seeing them happy? 

(Happy Little Kid + Happy Dorgi Dog) > Intact Textiles.