Some of you may remember Tigger from my blog post about my zoo--I mean--pets.
If not, meet Tigger.
22 pounds of sheer terror--er, terrier.
Tigger has a love affair with toys and all things that can be perceived as such (empty plastic water bottles, socks)...especially if they squeak. He even has his own toy box--a basket just off the living room full of what looks like the de-stuffed carcasses from an epic battle.
The object of his battle?
Must. Remove. Squeaker.
After hours upon hours of cleaning the house, in preparation for both Colston's pending arrival and Stanley Steemer to clean our carpet (God bless my mother-in-law, she's paying lol)...we enter the living room and discover a massacre had taken place.