I Didn’t Destroy the House—Just Gave the Living Room a Surprise Makeover
I came home to find “minimalist chic” everywhere: sofa cushions gutted, cotton snowdrifts across the floor, the remote reduced to its circuit board. The culprit sat in the middle, tail wagging, phone already updated:
“Interior designer on duty! Minimalism = less is more. Cushions don’t need that much fluff. Negative space is elegance. The scream you just heard? Client approval. #PawFengShui”
Photo: me standing in cotton rain, shocked face melting into resignation.
Husky replied: “Five stars, take me next time.”
Golden Retriever added: “Forwarded to Samoyed squad, group project incoming.”
I looked at the bill, gave a thumbs-up, and muttered: In dog world, ‘renovation’ never charges labor.






