That Gingham Dog is at it Again

I have a very vivid childhood memory of my mother reading Eugene Field's horror story in poem form, The Duel, to me and my brothers. I was seriously disturbed by that poem, both for the imagery about a dog and cat fighting until there was nothing left of them, and because of my grandmother's Chinese plate, which I was sure was always watching me.

Now, it seems I have a Gingham Dog of my own. Fortunately, I have no Calico Cat. Unfortunately, this puppy has torn apart everything that can be torn in the entire house. Here she is working on Libby's conducting stick, with a no-longer-stuffed dog beside her. And you should see the recliner (which was on its way to the dump anyway).

And my plates? They are all Chinese.