Chapter 78: Each Fulfills Their Duty

As soon as the kitchen door opened, four dogs joyfully rushed in, beginning their exploration. Harska quickly discovered the chicken drumsticks that Zhuang Bowen had left on the kitchen counter earlier. Harska tried several times to retrieve the drumsticks from the stainless steel bowl, but failed each time due to his size.

Zhuang Bowen was quite pleased with himself. He had intended to roast those drumsticks for dinner and had placed them in the stainless steel bowl to thaw. Worried that the four little home-wreckers might steal them while he was out, he had carefully positioned the drumsticks at the innermost part of the counter. Now, seeing the dogs unable to reach them, he admired his own foresight.

But his triumph was short-lived. The other three dogs, noticing Harska’s failed attempts, watched as the Alaskan Malamute pushed Harska aside, using its size to its advantage. With a swift swipe of its paw, it pulled the drumsticks within reach. Then, with a nudge of its mouth, the entire bowl fell to the floor.

None of the four dogs stood on ceremony; they all dove in and began eating right off the floor.

“Calm down, calm down!” Zhang Congwen quickly consoled Zhuang Bowen, whose face was flushed with anger, unable to hide his amusement as he spoke.

Before Zhuang Bowen could regain his composure, the four dogs were at it again. After finishing the drumsticks, skin and bones included, Harska began scavenging the kitchen once more. The husky expertly opened the lowest drawer. Fortunately, Zhuang Bowen had anticipated this and moved the rice and flour elsewhere.

After circling the kitchen a few times and finding nothing else of interest, the sled dog squad swarmed back into the living room and resumed gnawing on the chairs and stools.

“Damn!” Zhuang Bowen suddenly exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Zhang Congwen.

“I forgot to lock my bedroom door,” Zhuang Bowen replied. “Our husky can open doors. Let’s hope they don’t notice the bedroom.”

After years of raising dogs, sometimes they even seemed to share a psychic bond with their owner. No sooner had Zhuang Bowen finished speaking than the Samoyed stood up and approached the bedroom door. Without any prompting, the husky volunteered to paw at the handle a few times.

The bedroom door swung open, just as expected.

The four dogs, as if discovering a new continent, poured into Zhuang Bowen’s bedroom. Since there was no surveillance camera installed there, their activities inside were entirely hidden from view.

At this point, Zhuang Bowen could no longer sit still. He was about to return home to stop his dogs’ mischief.

It was as if the dogs wanted to put on a show for him, as if to declare, “Let’s show our master how hard we work, so he’ll reward us with more drumsticks when he gets back.”

Soon, each dog trotted into the living room with something in its mouth. Two carried pillows, one had the quilt from Zhuang Bowen’s bed, and the last one clutched a piece of clothing he had left on the bed.

Upon entering the living room, the two dogs with pillows immediately launched into a pillow fight, wildly shaking their heads and smacking the other dogs with their pillows.

The dog with the quilt didn’t try to tear it apart, but instead bounced enthusiastically atop it. The one with the clothing kept burrowing into it, as though attempting to wear it.

Of course, a dog cannot wear human clothes. So it crawled inside, one paw pressing on one side, its body pushing against the other, as if convinced its master had grown too fat for the garment and was helping to stretch it out.

Seeing its companion struggling, the dog on the quilt eagerly came over to lend a helping mouth.

Rip!

The clothing was torn open.

The two dogs stared in surprise, not expecting their good intentions to go awry. But being carefree by nature, they reasoned that since the clothing was already torn, further damage wouldn’t matter. They happily continued ripping it to shreds.

“No, I must go home at once. Immediately,” Zhuang Bowen said, putting away his phone and rushing back.

Upon entering, the sled dog squad greeted him with their usual cheerful faces. Zhuang Bowen, however, was utterly dejected, barely responding to their welcome.

He had always known his dogs were adept at wrecking the house, but before, he only saw the aftermath. Now, watching them destroy his belongings piece by piece right before his eyes was a wholly different feeling.

The only consolation was that, in their raid on his bedroom, the sled dog squad had only destroyed two pillows, a quilt, and a piece of clothing, without getting up to anything worse.

“Trainer Zhang, please help me escape this torment,” Zhuang Bowen pleaded.

He’d become numb to the destruction because he’d never witnessed the sled dog squad in action. Now, seeing their abilities firsthand, he genuinely feared that one day they might dismantle the entire house and leave him homeless.

“This won’t be easy,” Zhang Congwen replied, troubled. “Do you still think your dogs have separation anxiety?”

Zhuang Bowen shook his head vigorously. “No. Absolutely not.”

After all, they were having the time of their lives wrecking the house in his absence—separation anxiety was out of the question.

“If it were separation anxiety, that would actually be easier to fix,” Zhang Congwen explained. “But now, it’s more troublesome.”

Zhuang Bowen was taken aback. “Why would separation anxiety be easier?”

“If it’s separation anxiety,” Zhang Congwen said, “then all you need to do is reduce the dogs’ anxiety. Whether through training, education, or medication, there are many methods. But these four aren’t showing any negative emotions—they’re simply having a blast. That’s what makes it so hard to address.”

“Why is that?” Zhuang Bowen pressed.

“They’re just too bored,” Zhang Congwen said. “Did you notice on the surveillance videos how they pranced around when opening the bedroom door or entering the kitchen? What did it look like to you?”

Zhuang Bowen thought for a moment. “Like they’d found new toys.”

Watching the dogs’ antics on the surveillance feed, he’d felt a strange sense of familiarity. With Zhang Congwen’s prompting, he realized it was much like his own childhood.

As a child, Zhuang Bowen’s family had raised pigs, and there was an old, unused pigsty. One day, left alone at home and bored out of his mind, he decided to tear down the pigsty. He’d always disliked it, so without hesitation, he demolished the whole thing.

The sense of satisfaction was immense. But when his father returned that evening with a newly purchased piglet, the mixed beating he received was unforgettable.

“Not the most accurate analogy,” Zhang Congwen joked. “It’s more like a few bored children stumbling upon forbidden mischief. And did you notice how perfectly your sled dog squad is organized? The whole process is coordinated, each dog playing to its strengths in the enterprise of wrecking your home.”