Where’s my other shoe?

I’m the kind of person whose shoes live in the closet, sitting neatly in pairs, resting quietly on the shelves until Yours Truly is ready to wear them.

That habit comes from painful experiences – the “where the hell did I leave my…” search being one. The other being what a four-legged, furry critter can do to an innocent and unsuspecting shoe that distinctly feels like a chew toy.

Yeah, I admit I am often guilty of taking my shoes off in the car, and then leaving them there. But at least then I know where they are and they aren’t going to become unauthorized chew toys.

The exception to the shoes-in-the-closet rule is my flip flops. I wear them to kick around the yard. I throw them on to go to the mailbox. If I’m in a hurry, I might even wear them to the store to pick up that last minute item I need. They usually sit in the corner, under the bar area, on top of which you will find my keys and sunglasses.

But then there is that furry, four-legged critter.

Who usually doesn’t chew my shoes up anymore.

But she has been known to drag them around to strange places.

So, not finding my faithful, comfy (and ugly) flip flops in their usual spot, I began the rounds.

I found one:

So um... where is the other one?
So um... where is the other one?

The other, however, was no where to be found.

Knowing Meathead the way I do, I decided to go look outside, and was greeted by this:

Great... cotton carnage...
Great... cotton carnage...

No it didn’t suddenly snow in The Valley. That’s stuffing and it was all over the yard.

It didn’t take long to figure out that between the sun and the dog, the cover of the chaise had given way and the dog had discovered that inside that cushy cover was all this white fluffy stuff.

And oh, that white fluffy stuff must have been fun to play with because bits and pieces of it were all over.

ummm... Meathead...?
ummm... Meathead...?

Now, would someone kindly explain why my wrist brace is in the middle of all this?