While she's in the hospital, I am caring for her chihuahua. My mother wanted a pert for a long time to helpkeep her from being depressed, and had a recommendation from her doctor for one, but she probably shouldn't have gotten a dog. Even before the leukemia onset, her health fluctuated a lot and she is unable to keep any kind of schedule, not even a vague "daily" schedule. A cat would have been easier to take care of, Another kind of dog would have been easier to train.
But she has a chihuahua. A chihuahua with separation anxiety. She's been staring at the front door quite a bit, expecting my mom to come walking back through it any minute. And she goes in my mom's bedroom periodically to see if my mom is hiding under the blankets. Since the dog was spayed a few days before the emergency, she probably thinks this is all part of some kind of deliberate torture. She's been pretty calm lately, as long as I keep her in my lap and stay still. But man, if I take the trash out, she screams like she's being beaten or something. First time we went to see my mother in the hospital, we took the dog with us, with the idea that one person would stay outside with the dog while the other went in. Second time, though, my sister insisted we had to leave the dog at home, alone. First time ever.
No furniture or other items were chewed, but she seemed pretty hoarse when I got back.
Of course, when the dog is in a good mood, that's not necessarily a good thing. As a chihuahua, she's bossy. What she likes to do for hours on end is play. And play, to her, means biting your sweet, sweet flesh and tearing at your clothes, although occasionaly she will tear a toy instead, as long as you are holding it, and can occasionally "accidentally" bite your hand. She's not mad at you or snappy, she just thinks it's fun. I call her a "hand vampire".