What's the Most Damage Your Pet Has Caused?

My cocker spaniel chewed up six expensive underwire bras! I had hand washed them in Woolite and hung them over a clothesline in the basement to drip dry. All that was left was 12 u shaped underwires and a few scraps of lace.

Hah! Lightweights. My dog once ate a door.

Story: House/dogsitter put dog in garage, thinking we would be back in a couple hours. Our flight was delayed and we got in 18 hours later than we said we would. Dogsitter didn’t come back to house to check in meantime. (No, we didn’t retain her services in the future.) Anyway, my dog bit, clawed, or butted through a three-inch wooden door and lived off of toilet water until we returned. We were more pissed at the 'sitter than at our dog.

My ringneck parrot Isidore is an excellent escape artist and pretty much cannot be caged. He has thrown things off shelves and windowsills because I wasn’t paying enough attention to him, harassed my other birds, torn open furniture and thrown the stuffing out, liberated other birds and animals from their cages when I wasn’t looking, wrecked a printer by throwing seeds and feathers in it, smashed open an insect collection display case with a metal candlestick that he wielded in his beak, chewed up the mop, and eaten countless house plants. He also found my snowglobes and pulled the plugs on them so that the fluid would run out. About the only thing he hasn’t done is start tearing the plaster off the walls, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. And if it wasn’t so late at night I’d probably be able to recall more destructive things he’s done.

Someone else’s pet broke my hip

Of course, this pet was a horse… My horses at different points have: kicked me in the hamstring, stepped on my calf leaving a permanent dent, broken my mother’s finger, and other things that have been shrugged off as minor.

None of our house sized pets have ever really done too much damage. Although the English Bulldog’s drool pretty much ruined the upholstery on my mother’s velvet couch. drool + velvet = bad

We had gone to all the trouble of building my Husky a wooden doghouse. We actuallu dug under the house so, since we’re in Florida, she could stay cool during the summer. The building housed a sort of tunnel that had several stairs. After about one month she had eaten half of her house’s roof AND had pooped all in the inside of the dog house (which was imposible to clean since it was underneath the real house) AND had killed a cat and left its body under our house.

My chinchilla (named Chainsaw) is always shitting all over the god damned floor. If i knew these rodents did this, I don’t think I would have gotten her. It’s just a pain in the ass to sweep up 300 rice-sized turds when she gets tired from running around the kitchen.

Feh. Amateurs. Our dog Murphy has been scratching and/or chewing the wood on the back of our house. He’s also done a number on the porch rails, but we were planning to b uild a bigger deck anyway. But the house? Arrg. We’re going to have to replace the wood on about half the back of our house, or else put up vinyl siding. We haven’t looled into just replacing the wood, but the cost of siding: about $8000 - $10,000.

My father graduated from high school in 1952. That year he played third base for his high school baseball team and hit a homerun in the final game of a series that gave his school the state championship. At the end of the game, the entire team signed the ball and gave it to their coach.

Jump ahead to 1989.

My brother finds the ball in an antique store in our hometown and gives the ball to my dad for Xmas. You would have thought that he had received the Holy Grail. He kept the ball on a little table by his recliner. He would often just pick it up and read the names and get sort of a far off look in his eye.

December 1990. My brother, who gave him the ball, dies.

That spring I get a spring spaniel puppy (you can see where this is going). Sure enough, Clyde (the dog) manages to get the ball one afternoon while we aren’t looking.

Baseballs, after their cover has been chewed off by a Springer Spaniel puppy, look like balls of string around a cork core.

Darby (RIP), the 3/4 Persian cat, a cute (and smart!) little bundle of black fluff decided that the dining room chairs were a bit drab (black). Honestly, she was right. By removing the fabric from the top of the dining room chairs she forced us to buy this cool four color chair set that really added some color to the room.

Panzer—the big black German shepherd dog with a heart of 1/2 gold, 1/2 something else–decided that the transition from carpet to tile to carpet from the front room, through the kitchen, through the family room, to the back porch door looked abrupt and unnatrual. Honestly, once she ripped up the carpet in the front room and the family room, we could see she was right. Now, with tile, the whole open half of the house seems to flow together much better.

The beagle puppy, Pumpkin, is a furniture expert. She saw that having a matching entertainment center and family room tables was just too much bland light colored wood. Once she gnawed off the edges of the coffee and end tables she made us see the error of our ways. She, in a contrarian statement, forced us to buy some wrought iron and glass tables, which are a bit dark.

But, after the complete repainting of half the house (thanks canine friends!), somehow the new darker tables look just right. As a design team their synergy is a real paradigm shift, if you know what I mean.

Well, let’s see … when JC was a young 'un, he chewed:

  1. A pair of Rx glasses
  2. 3 TV remotes (my husband just couldn’t remember to put them out of reach)
  3. Numerous CD jewel cases
  4. Newspapers - shreds everywhere
  5. A decorative box made of eggshells my husband bought me in Trinidad
  6. Plants, including a cactus
  7. The edges of the wooden filing cabinet
  8. A leather belt
  9. My purse strap
  10. A dozen homemade rolls - he merely gummed them all and left them on the floor, didn’t eat them, much to the annoyance of my husband, who loves homemade rolls.
  • He tore one of my husband’s shirts when it was hung on a chair - he decided he wanted the shirt and just kept pulling until the tail ripped.

  • Bent/broke 3 sliding screen doors by trying to run through them
    Our other dog Idol managed to lock himself in our office one day and then tried to bust out. He pulled the molding off the door frame, chewed the wall around the door, chewed the doorknob until it was no longer round, snacked on the frame of an antique painting that was sitting next to the door, knocked over the lamp, and knocked my computer keyboard and mouse on the floor. He then got up on the office chair and chewed through the cable that connected my digital camera to the computer, a USB cable and one of the speaker wires. We think he was trying to get out the window at that point because it’s behind the computer in that room and the blinds were all razzed up too. Failing to get out of the room, he took out his frustration on a pile of magazines and shredded those. He has also broken a screen door and dug a hole in the drywall next to the back door - when he sees one of us walk up after work, he gets so excited he jumps up and digs at the drywall, like it’s going to get him to us faster. We’re working with him on that one - he’s better, but there’s no point in fixing the damage until that behavior has been resolved.

He also ate the molding around the bedroom and closet doors when we first got him - we left him in there with a baby gate up at the entrance. When chewing the gate didn’t work, he tried working on the doorframe. We figured out that he - and we - are better off if he’s not confined.

In addition to this, he split open the end of his tail one winter day and sprayed blood all over the house whilst wagging - we had to buy new curtains for the living room and I’m still finding blood spots on walls, doors, and cabinets.

Despite all this, we love them dearly, and they’ve never hurt anyone - we did have a chinchilla that bit the vet and drew blood though.

what you people put off with just to have your pet around to love. I don’t think my cat has caused too much damage. Some, but too much.

My two cats have turned the banister supports on my stairs into a scratching post. Fortunately only one of them has been damaged to the point that it will have to be replaced should I decide to move. The others on each side of it have only been modertately scratched into. The supports are about an inch square. The one my cats have turned into their scratching post has been scratched about halfway through and is about a half inch in diameter now.

I started dating a girl in college who had a little orange kitty. He did all the normal kitty things like claw the drapes and cause general chaos. TMI to follow:

One night my girlfriend was giving me a handjob in near complete darkness. Apparently, the kitten was attracted to the motion. He lept across the room and gave me about a 1 inch cut right on the most sensitive part of my dick.

We don’t date anymore but I still have him. I forgave him and he’s my boy now-a-days.

All I can say about these tales is: crate training is A Good Idea.

I had one dog destroy my brand new carpeting in 2 places. Now I have to have the whole house replaced.

I had the other dog destroy a bathroom door from digging at it.

I didn’t get rid of them because I love them too much.

Unless your dog freaks out when confined, which ours did. I’ve seen dogs who had broken teeth and broken legs from trying to get out a crate in a panic, so YMMV. Some dogs just can’t deal with being confined when alone. Our younger dog likes his crate and will go there willingly and sleep there at night, but we found out pretty quick that he couldn’t take being in there while we were gone.

since someone else brought up horses–Mine bit a dent into my car door. i’d get it fixed but it’s such a great conversation dent. (“Where’d ya get that dent?”, “My horse tried to eat the car”, “What?!?”)

and i’m another pet owner who’s dog has killed many a screen door and shoes

Many years ago we had a dog named Shadrach and a cat. At Christmas, we put up a tree and one of the things we hung on the tree were some stockings my sister had made and sent to us stuffed with pet toys.

What we didn’t realize was that there was a bag of catnip stuffed way down in the toe of one stocking. I can only imagine the wild party that took place in the living room, as we only saw the aftermath.

The tree was lying on the floor, most of the ornaments were broken, and chewed gifts and dogshit were everywhere. He and the cat had eaten most of the catnip, which (I guess) got them stoned and apparently also acted as a laxative. The cat was nowhere to be found and finally appeared a couple of days later looking dazed and dehydrated. What a mess.

Hmm… for a long time, I really, really wanted a bull terrier. You know, Spuds dog. So I joined an email list about bullies, which I was on for several years, long past the time I decided that for Mr. Armadillo’s sanity we would not be getting a bullie, simply because the stories they told about their dogs were soooo entertaining.

The point is, where all your pets are amatures, these dogs are professionals. Having to have your dog’s stomach opened and various foreign objects removed is so common with that breed, the owners have a common lingo–it’s “zipper surgery.” Some dogs have it multiple times. And no, it’s not from lack of supervision, these dogs can perform amazing feats in small moments of time. One of my favorite stories involves an owner who ran into a convenience store for less than five minutes, to buy a newspaper. She came back to her car to find her steering wheel, the gear shift knob, and half the driver’s side seat gone.

I once compiled a two page word document, a list of all the things that I saw mentioned as having been surgically removed from a bull terrier’s stomach. A few of the best are: underwear, razor blades, a few hard back books, three hand-knit sweaters (achieved via eating a hole through an army foot locker), the entire top off a Fila leather sneaker (kindly left the sole), a whole rubber monkey hand, a live pigeon (!!!), and the tailpipe on a VW bus.

BUT the crowning glory of bull terrier-hood is this. A story which has unlimited permission to cross-post, in the hopes that people will be warned.
It goes like this:



Even if a dog freaks out when confined, at first, it will settle down over time and learn to see its crate as “home”. My young dog, Zap, is one of those - hated the crate at first, but after a few weeks responded to “bedtime!” with a happy bounce. She would have chewed her way through walls and furniture if it hadn’t been for her crate. She’s 1 and a half now, and she’s still crated when I’m not home. It keeps HER safe, above all else.

When you have a young dog, leaving the unsupervised is just asking for trouble - hell, they get into trouble when they ARE supervised. One thing I teach people right away is the “Trade ya!” command - when puppy finds something inappropriate to chew, give him something better --> a nylabone chew, one of the “edible bones” nylabone makes, or Kong toy stuffed with a treat (or bread, or peanut butter, whatever). Tell the pup “Trade ya!” and swap. The only catch is that you may end up with a thief of a puppy who will willingly bring “inappropriate” chews to you (without chewing them) just so you will give them something better in exchange.

Works for me. Saved my books, furniture, shoes…

Once they get older, dogs will figure out for themselves what’s appropriate. 18 month old Zap still gets the chewies sometimes, and will hunt up and down the house until she finds her gumabone, settle down on my bed, and chew the hell out of it… or she’ll bring me an empty Kong, throw it at me as if to say “Hey, fill this, will ya? I gotta chew.”

This being said, I knew a German Shepherd who broke through a couple of windows once - separation anxiety thing when no one was home - and let himself out of the house. Also knew of a Rottie who apparently flooded the house on a couple of occasions (according to the head Dogmaster at one of the obedience schools…)

Valen, my 6 year old Toller, hasn’t destroyed anything… and he was a hellion as a puppy. Crate trained from the get-go.

Zap, however, has destroyed a pair of shoes (lno’s) and the back of a Terry Pratchet paperback (when she was 9 weeks old and loose in my room with me, while I worked - the book was on the floor. Stupid me!). The shoes being destroyed were our fault: she was out free, in the bedroom, shoes accessible… This incident proved that she wasn’t ready not to be crated when we were out of the house.

Hurray for crates! Hurray!