I SWORE UP, DOWN and all around, that I would never raise another puppy. Puppies, I said glibly to friends considering getting their own, are like children, without benefit of diapers. What I should have said, instead: Be careful of the stone certainties, the pronouncements, the “I’ll nevers”–they’ll bite you in the ass, every time.
The Rock, you see, wanted a pet of her own. The cat? Really, he’s Grandma’s (they have a thing going.) The lab? She belongs to her big brother–just see where she chooses to settle down every night at bedtime. The horse? He, to all of our surprise, is really her Dad’s. Another cat was out of the question. A pony? Well, yes, that’s in the works, but that’s another story, and you can’t bring a pony into your bedroom. The girl wanted, had to have, needed with every fiber of her being, a dog. Her own.
I started with “No.” “No” soon changed to “Maybe, but only a really small dog.” (Yes, I am weak. And she is very, very strong. Her name is Rock, remember?) Experts (you know, like Oprah, and Dr. Phil) say that if you want to make a change in your life, one crucial step is to start telling other people about it. I made the mistake of mentioning to a friend who’s a passionate rescuer of animals that we were thinking about adding to our family. What seemed like minutes later, my phone rang.
A friend of my rescuer friend, a dog trainer, had heard we were looking (were we?) and knew of a tiny, sweet dog who needed a home. Would we like to meet him? Oh, and, by the way, isn’t it great? He’s a puppy! Just 12 weeks old. Ah.
As I mentioned, I am weak. You see the result above. And now my children have a whole new opportunity to compete with one another, but finally, finally, in a way that actually benefits me. They now fight to see who is the more responsible dog parent: “I fed Muffin first!” the Rock shrieks. “He still hasn’t fed Pasha,” she adds, in case I’m too dense to see how far superior she is to her older brother.
“But I took them both outside!” he retorts, indignantly. And so it goes. Meanwhile, I drink my coffee, and, OK, yes, pick up the occasional accident. Still no doggie diapers, sadly. But no regrets, either.
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Very funny!
As a write this, I am staring at a Golden Retriever, sprawled on my living room rug.
He is part of our determined 6 year old daughter’s strategy to get her father to agree to a dog. At first it was dog-sitting for 4 days while our friends were out of town and their floors were being re-done, but now it has stretched to over a week with a possibility of an extension to 3 weeks…
The girl of course is over the moon (as is the boy); the cat is not impressed and seems to have vaporized, and the father is taking Benadryl.
so jealous of the many animals! and wow is that petra starting to look like you! she morphed. beautiful. xo
I am finishing my summer break from subway performing with 2, TWO! pups from the same litter. Sisters. Standard Poodle pups, silver grey. They are 10 weeks now, been 2 weeks since passing the threshold of our country home. I’m in awe, never having had children of the human kind, (but knowing many) it’s an organizational puzzle. The sisters are smart and fascinate me with their abilities to learn and throw love my way constantly. The next big step will be the streets of NYC. One thing I know, they love music! Do I hear playdate with Muffin and Pasha?
As my best friend and I say often, “Beware what you mock.” As in, never point the finger and say “I won’t ever…”. Gets us in trouble every time.