You know the phrase 'the dog ate my homework.'
Well, today the dog ate my razor. Or tried to. No worries, he's ok. He seemed to realize the razor part was bad. Detached it from the handle. Chewed up the handle.
I came home today, did the usual search for damage, found the handle in one room... searched the entire house for the blade. Was afraid to step on it. Finally found the blade in the living room, next to several chewy bits of blue plastic. Dog was fine. Amazing.