I had a package of feminine hygiene products on a bookcase in my diningroom (it's where everything goes when I first bring it home) and somehow the little shit got ahold of it. Well, he tore the bag open, and pads were strewn throughout my house. I picked up all I could find and still, on occasion, I find a pad, shredded, laying on my floor. I don't know where he's keeping them.
Since he was brought home to me, this little beast has:
I could go on and on.. And on. But I think you get the point. I find myself frequently apologizing to Dingo for bringing a savage into our house. I actually have to go to class this week and tell my teacher "my dog peed on my homework".