I’ve repeatedly asked them to take their fighting outside of the office. My co-workers have managed to ruin a keyboard, spill multiple cups of coffee and have destroyed more pieces of paper than a shredder.

New to the world of office etiquette, our newest family members, Daisy and Duke, exercise their right as 5-month-old puppies to destroy everything in their path while looking absolutely adorable. Our home office has turned into their personal playground since they insist on being in the same room as we are, not so much to be petted, but to look for the next item they can shred or eat.

Thinking perhaps they needed some individual attention to slow down their demolition duties, I sat on the floor to offer a game of tug of war. I didn’t have time to defend myself as they both jumped on my head, knocked me over and by the time the licking and slobbering was over, my jaw had been whacked out of place.

I’ve had this happen before, but never as severe as this time. I could barely open my mouth, which worked out well for my diet, since it happened the day before Thanksgiving. Luckily I use my chiropractor for everything from sinus headaches to keeping my body functioning, so he was able to pop it back into place. It was a tad bit painful, but afterward I had immediate relief.

I’m beginning to think the pups have a personal vendetta for my “stuff.” They went through the fall décor so quickly I didn’t follow my tradition of putting up Christmas décor last weekend. They’re already tall enough to jump over the dog fencing we put up to corral them into one area, so the kitchen counters are lined with our valuables, pushed back far enough so they can’t snatch it, right from under our nose.

Walking them twice a day has my carpal tunnel flared up so I’ve been wearing wrist supports, which unfortunately I found chewed into pieces in the backyard this morning. When I start complaining, he reminds me I was the one who pushed for puppies (I’d never had a puppy before) and I should be mindful of where I put my items so they don’t tear them up.

The entire time we were discussing how it was my fault the dogs chewed up my wrist supports, we were scouring the house for his tennis shoes so we could take the little monsters for a walk. The pups thought it was a new game of hide and seek and followed us around while biting our ankles. The shoes were finally found in the backyard, and as much as I wanted to give him the same spiel on being mindful, the pups had been promised a walk and their patience was wearing thin so they had begun gnawing on the cabinets.

After a long walk with the pups, retrieving a dead mole from Daisy’s mouth and having to give Duke a bath after he rolled in raccoon poop, they laid down to take a nap.

Watching them sleep we took pictures of our sweet little fur babies and all was forgiven, until they wake up again.

Sandy Turner lives in Independence. Email her at sandydownhome@hotmail.com.