It's official. Mabel finally won. She killed the couch. As you all know, I've been complaining about this situation for many moons now. Once upon a time, my couch was brand spanking new and I loved it. My sweet mother-in-law had mercy on us when we were poor newlyweds, and purchased this couch. It was fluffy, upright and had a pleasant smell. That was then, and this is now.
Little did I know when picking out this fluffy, loose cushioned couch, that I would one day own a little schnauzer. A stubborn dog with fuzzy eyebrows, one intent on ruining anything not nailed down or sturdy (note how well my non-poofy leather chair is holding up, thank goodness for one piece of non-pulverized furniture).
Let's take an A.D.D moment and admire a previous Country Living magazine that I was perusing the other day. Is that NOT the best idea for bookshelves? OK Liz, snap out of it.
It begins innocently enough. She jumps up next to me, pretending that she might be in the mood for some adoration and napping in my lap. Stupid me, I'm duped every time. She peers at me briefly to see if I'll yell (because I do yell, and she KNOWS that sitting on the back cushions is a big no-no), and proceeds to burrow into the sofa.
This is always the end result. When I come home from work, there she is. When we eat dinner and leave the table, there she is. Cant find Mabel? She's in the cushions.
I'm afraid there is no reprieve for my couch. I have toyed with slip cover ideas all year, but it's time to face the facts. My formerly lovely couch has bit the dust. Thanks a lot Mabel. Live it up my little friend, because as soon as 'mommy' has enough money... she's buying a big, sturdy, hard-backed couch you cant begin to destroy. So there.