When my dog started eating and scratching at the armrest of the new couch I got, I had to rip the fabric because I couldn’t stand it any longer. Inside the couch, I discovered something terrible
I had been searching for a new couch for a while; I wanted something that would go in with the design of the living room and be both comfy and fashionable.
In the end, I discovered the ideal choice in a tiny shop that, as I subsequently discovered, specialized in reconditioned second-hand furniture. The couch appeared to be brand new from the outside.
My dog, Jerry, approached and grew suspicious as soon as I took it home and put it in the room’s corner. Although he is always composed, he was acting oddly this time. He circled the couch gently, sniffed the legs, then the armrests, and then paused at the one on the right. All of a sudden, he began to itch it.
— Have you discovered a new favorite place? — I inquired, giggling.
Jerry, however, refused to quit up. As though sensing something was within, he snarled, scratched, and smelled more and more. I attempted to divert his attention with a treat and a toy, but to no avail. He was staring at that one armrest.
Hours went by. I became anxious. Normally, Jerry isn’t dramatic. Something was wrong if he was being this insistent. Negative thoughts began to seep in. Perhaps there was a serious issue with the couch?
With some hesitation, I picked up a knife and sliced through the armrest’s fabric. There was aged wood, springs, yellow stuffing, and something black inside 
With caution, I continued to tear, and to my surprise, I saw it was a dead snake. Long, coiled up, starting to break down. I was smacked in the face by the odor, which up until that point had been confined by the fabric. Jerry hissed as if to warn me to remain back as I retreated.
I phoned a disinfection service and tossed out the entire armrest and the snake. They verified that the snake had probably slithered into the couch during storage or at a landfill and perished there.
The couch had apparently just had its upholstery changed without anyone inspecting its contents.
I haven’t purchased any used furniture since then.
As if he no longer trusts any couch in the world, Jerry now only sleeps on the floor. And I understand.
