White Dog gasped and Steve said "Oh my, Dragon, Sue is NOT going to be happy with you" when the humans returned from yoga yesterday. The greeting brought me from the office. White Dog met me as I entered the Living Room and was (I hope) the only one who saw my eyes cloud up before I put on my stoic manners. Candace was on the floor fiercely holding the squirming Dragon. Steve cradled in his hands the beautiful hand felted sculpture of White Dog which had lived in the center of our coffee table...only now it was a mangled, chewed ruin missing tail, ears, front paw, and part of the nose. White rabbit fur, as soft as an Eskie's lay across the floor. "It is all right," I heard myself telling the distraught and embarrassed Candace. "It is only a thing." White Dog leaned against me and whispered, "You still have the real thing...me!" While we thought Dragon was napping, he climbed up onto the table (White Dog just cannot imagine the gall) and took the soft treasure. After Candace (still apologizing) and Dragon-brat (unrepentantly) left, we went on-line to see if a replacement was possible. Originally, the sculpture had come from Fire Bird Arts only now it sadly seems that they no longer carry the felted dogs. Steve sent them an email asking if it was at all possible to get a replacement...but we fear not. I just held the little doll and White Dog rested her head on my lap.