So yesterday I was getting ready to write a post to mock all the Dansko Pool Players, calling them “amateurs,”  because who did they think I was? A new Siberian owner? Then Mr. Wild Dingo and I came home from our anniversary dinner to this:

Wait, it’s my yoga block. And it’s in the foyer. Hmm.  I don’t remember leaving it there. In fact, this is where it should be:

…right next to it’s partner yoga block in my bibliothèque du burreau (office bookshelf). I know I left it there.  Khyra pointed out that maybe I should put my “khrap” away. As if it were that easy. As you can see, I keep a fairly neat house and as it is,  my shelves, that would normally hold books, are empty. My brand new bibliotehque is useless. All because we harbor a criminal who takes things like books and now yoga blocks off the shelves and has her way with them.

Above is another item that fell into the fate of the Siberian jaws about a month ago. It’s a lovely Ikea lamp we purchased for a dead space in the living room. She had her way with it when we were in our cultural training in September during a lunch break with the teachers. The lamp wasn’t even out of the box or assembled. She opened the box, took out the paper lamp and destroyed it. For the record, that box was stacked on other boxes and she had to drag it off and away from all the other heavy boxes. So that lovely lamp is now zip-tied together at the top (thank you Mr. Wild Dingo, Martha Stewart would be proud) and demoted to the basement. Thanks to the Sibe, that lamp illuminates our path to her dinner every day. To think I was ready to remind–while mocking–you all that she had also eaten my passport last year as well.  I guess the joke’s on me, huh?

“Hey mom, can you buy me a bigger foyer rug so that I can neatly confine my mastications in one area? Thanks.”

So Juno made it to 9 days and 20 hours since the Dansko’s arrived. You’ll note that my old Dansko’s are also in the crime scene. They’ve been demoted to dog yard shoes. She has since attacked them two more times since that first time. Last night, I admittedly did not put them in another room as I usually do and bolt the door, instead I hid them far under the armoire to the left. As you can see, she found them.  But since these are not the Dansko’s in the bet, they do not count in this Dankso Pool. However, this does count as her first mastication since the Dankso Pool Bet began because here is the damage she inflicted:

As you can see the yoga block has been violated with Siberian teeth, counting as the first mastication event since the beginning of the bet.

The Herd has this saying, “A tired Sibe is a good Sibe.” Well I’m here to tell you, there’s no such thing as a good Sibe, tired or not. You see, yesterday, this Sibe went on a 3-hour hike to St. Prex from our house. There was no question that we were all tired when we got home. I, myself, barely had the energy to get ready for dinner, so I know she was tired. Regardless of her fatigue, and regardless of how neat we keep the house and how few rooms she’s confined to (office, foyer, kitchen), we came home to an eaten yoga block and my old Dansko’s (now dog yard shoes) violated a  third time.

“I don’t know what the fuss is all about. Purple does not work in this house like it does with the California house and these Danskos have already bitten the dust.”

So I have a saying now: The reason Siberians are born with masks because they are all criminals.  I mean lets face it.  You you can’t take the crime out of a natural born criminal. Crime is in her DNA. A criminal who’s tired is simply a tired criminal, not a retired criminal. For example, here’s Juno–still tired from her 3-hour hike and her yoga block crime–eyeing Mr. Wild Dingo’s loafer in the photo above, already planning her next masticatory crime:

“These Dansko’s are getting a bit old to chew on. That nice suede loafer on Poppy’s foot, however, looks ripe for mastications.”

So you may wonder how we would treat a criminal after a crime has been committed. I mean, in our society, every crime must have a consequence right?

“There, there, Juno. We’re so sorry to have left you here with that cracker cujo dog Loki. With nothing but old Dansko’s (and 14 other bones and toys) to amuse yourself. How can we make this up to you?”

“That’s more like it Pop. I did smell something quite delicious when you came in.”

“Oh you mean the steak we had for dinner, err, I mean, the steak we bought specifically for you?”

“Ya, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Perhaps you should be a bit faster with getting the steak home next time.”

Do you think it sends the wrong message to give a Sibe some steak after a crime has been committed?

Here is evidence that my new burgendy Dansko’s are still alive and well:

“Ah, that sweet “new shoe-smell” of a Dansko. It’s calling to me.”

So winners for the first bet are Brice & Eva and Brooke & Darwin. And they will get some Swiss chocolate no matter if the Dansko’s make it or not.  And if you’re wondering, yes, I’m extremely embarrassed for having lost the second part of the bet in such a short time. I was expecting 30 days at least. So, I’m warning you, I’m going to be working like mad not to lose the 2nd part of the bet!

I Suppose This Will Do

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