I literally heard myself say “Monkeys do not grow on trees, young lady!!”. If Ella could speak, I’m sure she would have said something very pre-adolescent back to me, like “No, but they climb trees - close enough!” and then she would have run off to her room (or rather corner since we live in a shoebox) to avoid her punishment.

She’s already killed Raffy. After she took out Monkey, she destroyed Froggie too - that one was too gruesome…I can’t even show you the pics.

I tell you, lately I really am struggling to note the differences between furchildren and the human kind. I look at Ella when she sleeps, and I think to myself “What a beautiful angel”…and then she wakes up and immediately lifts the top on the trashcan, pulls out a used tissue, and rips it to shreds, and I think…”Wha???”

Anyway, the stuffed animal destruction has got to stop. Just as elephants are killed for their ivory tusks, it seems the root cause of the stuffed animal poaching lies in their valuable squeakers…

The gutting begins.

Nosing for squeakers…

Growing impatient, Ella goes straight for the jugular…

She hits gold and smugly enjoys her reward.

“You got any squeakers in you? I’ll gut you too!”

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