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I had pulled in my driveway on a rainy September day and spotted large and small strips of brown cardboard, pink, black and white clothing, and clear plastic bags that had been ripped open and scattered across my back lawn.

It looked like someone had tossed debris in random directions as they rode on a merry-go-round. Closer inspection revealed that about 50 golf shirts littered my yard. Clear plastic bags protected most of them, but the rest were sopping and smeared with dirt.

I quickly bundled as many shirts as I could hold in my arms, and I hurried inside and dropped them on the Ping-Pong table. When I returned to collect more, I watched my giant Leonberger puppy hop among the clutter.

He grabbed a pink shirt, growled ferociously, and shook it side to side like he was playing Tug of War. Then he threw his head up and down and tossed it in the air. When it hit the ground, he pounced on it with muddy paws. I had to laugh, but I knew that these were the Adidas-golf shirts stitched with the company logo that my husband had ordered for his customers. I had heard that the company had paid about $2,000 for them. Unfortunately, he couldn't give his customers shirts that took a spin in my washer, and I knew that we were in trouble.

After I picked up the rest of the shirts, I called my husband from my cell phone so that he wouldn't know that I was home.

"You didn't leave the dog out, did you?" I asked

"Yes, I left him out," he said.

"Oh, did you forget that anything that the UPS truck drops off on the driveway belongs to him?"

"I didn't think about that," he said

"If he gets into anything, my conscience is clear, how's yours? Have a great day and see you at dinner."

This was the second or third time that my puppy had opened a UPS box. Previously, he had torn into canine heartworm pills and had eaten a six-month supply. I knew that the pills contained arsenic, and I had made a frantic call to the vet who assured me that his 120 pounds protected him from the poison.

Though I had never eaten one, heartworm medication smells and tastes like dog treats, and my dogs love them. Unfortunately, food and fun had rewarded my puppy for puncturing packages, and it was time to stop his behavior before he consumed his next carton.

After I picked up the rest of the shirts, I placed a cardboard box in my driveway and walked away watching him from nearby. When my puppy pounced on the box, I ran to him and grabbed his little black furry cheeks in my hands and put my face about two inches from his and screamed "NO!"

I yelled at him for about 15 seconds, and it worked. He never touched a box again.

It was a win-win. My puppy's curiosity taught my husband pet-owner responsibility by making him consider the consequences of leaving him out without supervision, and our family and friends added to their wardrobe. Thank goodness we have that dog.

- Dottie Lopez

Dottie Lopez is a blogger who loves to travel and cook. She and her husband dine out weekly and travel to places like the Caribbean, Boca Raton, New Orleans, Boston, New York, Barcelona and Paris, collecting recipes on the way. She graduated from Loyola College with an English degree, and took a course at Towson University that emphasized writing restaurant reviews. The Baltimore Post Examiner published one of her reviews.