Tilly Sawyer has been pretty good lately about staying away from things she's not supposed to eat and as even my anxiety has its limits, I had stopped eyeing her jaws every 5 seconds and was a somewhat relaxed puppy owner.
As usual, I was walking her after work, plastic grocery bags flapping in the breeze and she stopped midway through to take care of things. As this happens every day, I wasn't paying too much attention but something a bit odd caught my eye. I bent over to investigate - hello cars and other runners going by, ignore my yoga panted rear end hanging out in the road! - and saw the wadded up remains of a pair of undies.
I throw my dirty clothes in the washing machine each day so I'm guessing that D did a load of laundry and when he moved things to the dryer a pair fell out and he didn't notice as he is not OCD about it like I am.
It's good to know that a pair can go through her system without causing twisting intestines of surgery trouble but that didn't really keep me from hyperventilating by building 204. Oh, Tilly.
I guess chalk one up for v-strings vs grannies?
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