Megan Stielstra's Blog

When we got the puppy, our downstairs neighbor gave us a present: a long Pottery Barn rug made of thickly knotted wheatgrass. It ran the length of the hall, providing a buffer between running doggy paws and her ceiling. Mojo, the puppy, of course, ate it. We came home from work and the rug was peeled like an orange.

I ordered another one from the catalogue, and it arrived on Saturday. Coincidentally, Saturday was Mojo's first birthday. I think HE thinks the replacement rug is his present. Like, "Here, baby, Happy Birthday! Have another stupidly expensive wheatgrass rug to destroy! Spread the scraps all over the house so I can spend the day cleaning up after you!" He's been eyeing the rug all afternoon, tail wagging, licking his chops, waiting for the moment they'll be alone together.