Where are my shoes?

Just a quick vent on a Friday night: I have recently grown attached to a strange pair of shoes. They aren't strange really. They are just very plain nude wedges that my mother bought me a year ago because she thought I would like them. Well, I hated them and ignored them for one full calendar year. Suddenly, without explanation, I like them now. After a few wearings they became as comfy as my flipper floppers.

Anyway, this isn't the point. I am searching high and low around the house and am mysteriously missing a shoe. It doesn't help that I am frantically trying to get out of the house because I was hungry and my husband was bugging me.

Now - I know better and should have known instantly who to blame. I was just about to give up and move on to another pair (although very flustered over the potential loss) when my husband walked in the door and asked my why he tripped on my shoe in the front yard.

That's right, we are the Clampet's with shoes in our yard! What is next? Tires? And who do we have to thank for this? The culprit is none other than this big fella:

Meet Gordon the Beef Cake! He likes to fit as many items into his mouth as possible and carry them around with them. He has some sort of complex we can only assume goes back to his birth (probably abandonment issues) because when you tell him to come with you out any particular room, he frantically scours the floor and picks up as many things as he can find and brings them with him. I have caught him carrying around phones, remotes, a lot of socks, shoes, etc. He can typically fit about 4 things in his monster mouth. Luckily he is a gentle giant and didn't do any harm to the shoe! His new current favorite thing that he refuses to let us have back is our little circle neck pillow thing for the airport. He REFUSES to let it go. Usually I am careful with my shoes, but I obviously slipped up. What a little brat!

A couple of years ago I put the fear of God into one of our other dogs for chewing my Coach wedges. He maimed them. I took them to the cobbler who insisted they were irreparable. I told the cobbler this wasn't acceptable. He "patched" them up and my right shoe literally looks like Frankenstein's shoe. I can only wear them with pants so you don't see the mangled heel. Since all you can see are my toes it works out fine - whatever.

Anyway, I am getting off track again. I sat all 4 of the dogs down in a row and yelled at them for a good hour. I then constructed shoe shelves up high in my closet as opposed to putting my shoes on my floor. Since that day they have never touched another one of my shoes. But today was obviously the day that speech wore off. I will have to plan out my next "little chat" with them.