My dog is a bastard.
Unpacked the Dakota shoes from Seven Boot Lane. They fit, as we all knew they would, like a friggin' dream and look awesome on. I adore them. Totally worth the £120 price tag and I am really pleased I took the plunge.
Husband, on the other hand, would not be. So, like the thoughtful wife I am, I diligently put all the packaging back inside the delivery box, shredded the invoice, put the box in the boot (the house recycling is for rookies, it'll need to go to the skips one morning after school next week to truly avoid detection...) and carried the beautiful new shoes upstairs to my dressing room to place them on my shoe rack and therefore make them look like they've lived here forever! I was just walking through my bedroom when Baby called 'Mama, wee wee' so I popped the shoes on the floor at the end of my bed, screamed 'I'M COMING!!!' and ran back downstairs to race him to the toilet.
That was my fatal error. Choosing puddle prevention over shoe detection.
When Husband came home from work two hours later, Dog leapt off our bed where he had been snoozing, looked around frantically for something to present his beloved master and GRABBED ONE OF MY BRAND NEW FREAKIN' SHOES.
Not only did he drop my new prized possession right at Husband's feet (the guy is anything but observant but this might rouse his suspicions) but now my right shoe has the faintest of faint dribble marks on the side. Thank Christ he's not a chewer or he'd be living outside from now on.
Upside: I will no longer be precious about them and will wear and enjoy them as nature intended.
Downside: I will always look down at my feet, smile at my lovely shoes and then squint to see if the dribble mark of 2016 is still visible.