Our house has become a series of barricades. There’s the fence designed to keep toddlers in a room across the bottom of the stairs, the gate that isolates the kitchen and the table top procured from the porch furniture that can be slid to separate the dinning room from the living room.  Without them we’ve learned the house can turn into a raceway.

Actually, that can be fun for us as it is for Ferrah, 30 pounds of corgi/German Shepherd mix with a bullet-shaped body, short legs and a stub of a tail.  When wound up, usually after polishing off a bowl of kibble, Ferrah takes off through the house.  She needs only a little coaxing to click into race mood.

But it’s something you want to control or, at least, predict. Thirty pounds of hurtling dog can be dangerous when carrying hot coffee or coming down stairs. That’s why the barricades and the invisible fence around the yard.

We thought the invisible fence would be the answer. She could circle the house at break neck speed, wear herself out and then join us inside to collapse at our feet and act like a dog instead of a spinning top.  It was a great plan only instead of one race track, Ferrah now has two.

Carol and I looked at each other. How can so much energy get packed into such a small package? After circling the house several times, Ferrah would come in to run up and down stairs until we erected the barricades.

But then, as learned from prior canine companions, bottled energy can be destructive energy.

“Look at this,” Carol said Sunday morning holding up what looked like a ripped face cloth. “That was one of my favorite socks.” On closer examination I identified what remained of a toe and a heel.

Where’s the rest of the pair? I asked. Carol shrugged. I suspect it met the same fate and we’d find it among her shredded stuffed toys or worse yet among her deposits outside.

Ferrah shouldn’t have surprised us.

Two days after boarding Bogie, our son Jack’s juvenile ridgeback years ago, we found the corner of a built in combination chest and seat chewed off. Bogie’s jaws were incredible. This was a solid two inches of wood cleanly rounded off, which after being sanded and painted looked perfectly natural. No loss.

Then came Christmas and a gift of boat shoes. I tried them on. They fit but made the mistake of taking them off. Within the week the heel of the left shoe was as cleanly cut off as if I’d run it through a table saw. The following Christmas, I wrapped the toe of the shoe and gave it to Jack as a gift for Bogie.  I doubt he gave it to Bogie, but it was good for laughs.

Ferrah would be no match for Bogie, but having witnessed the force of canine jaws, Carol left few things to chance other than her favorite socks. She’s bought pieces of antlers for Ferrah to chew. Best of all, however, are Himalayan (I have no idea why they are called that) Dog Chews. They’re square sticks about 10 inches long made of hardened cheese (no smell to me but maybe Ferrah) that are rated 7 on a chewable scale of 10. Antlers are a 10.

Ferrah loves them and will spend hours grinding them to nubs.

Now we’re guarding our socks. I can’t imagine what will come next. But that’s the fun and the surprise of a puppy.