My weakness has been exposed, and I fear for the future of our family.
Yesterday at 3 p.m. all was normal… I might even go so far as to say it was calm. Both boys were sleeping after a busy morning/afternoon. I was getting a head start on dinner preparation, and planning on finally putting together the apple crisp I’d sliced apples for 3 days ago.
At 5 p.m. we suddenly had a dog. Didn’t really see that coming, to be honest.
As it turns out, a colleague of Bjørn’s was in a tight spot. His son, the owner of 3 dogs, was badly injured and hospitalized in an accident over the weekend. Due to a number of circumstances, they had no place for one of the dogs — a 3 month old puppy — to stay. My compassionate husband, wanting to help in some way, said he’d talk to his wife and that maybe we could take the puppy for a while.
His wife left her phone in the car, so had no idea what was happening when a serious looking man who said he was a colleague of her husband showed up unexpectedly at the doorstep. A man who looked more and more worried as the wife answered ”no” each time he asked if her husband had spoken to her. I was just starting to brace myself for some very bad news when he began to explain the situation.
Long story short, we agreed to keep the puppy until a new owner is found. At which point the puppy was carried from the car up to our living room. At which point I laughed harder than I have for some time. I realize that ”puppy” refers to age, not size, and that after hearing the heritage of the parents (boxer-pit bull, labrador-akita) I should have been prepared…But this is a big puppy. This ”puppy” is bigger than any or all of the dogs we had growing up.
Anyway, night one and day one have gone well. He sleeps through the night. He pees on the floor no more than my other kids do… possibly even less. He puts no more things-that-need-to-be-retrieved in his mouth than my other children (although he did consume part of a lemming carcass. That was gross.) He is friendly and sweet and sits on my lap if I’m on the floor. (Which prompted Emil to try to squeeze on, too). Like Emil, he is interested in the dishwasher; UNLIKE Emil, he lays quietly in the kitchen while I wash dishes. I was contemplating how lovely this was when he then laid his head down, just barely resting on my foot.
Years of anti-pet resolve were just rendered useless.
My maternal instincts are so active right now, due to this sweet (huge) orphan puppy, that I had a very vivid dream last night that I gave birth to our 3rd son. Blue eyes, name Sigmund. (Don’t ask, because I don’t know.) I also found myself feeling like I needed to be singing to this dog as he laid so patiently and quietly in the kitchen as I worked. Everytime he pees in the yard I say, ”Good job!! That feels better, doesn’t it?” or something to that effect. Yes, all 40 pounds of him need to carried up and down the stairs because he’s afraid of them; BUT — does he complain when I close the door to his ‘room’ (our entryway), engaging my tired brain in the ”should I let him cry it out?” debate? No. He chews on his stick and goes to sleep.
Dream baby. That’s all I’m going to say.
(As I sat down to write this tribute to the dream baby dog, I heard the liquid tinkle of dream baby dog’s pee hitting the floor. There’s a little bit less bloom on the rose, but at least I had the foresight to move the rug.)