Since we moved in together, we decided that the hierarchy of responsibility would proceed like this :
1. plant (if that lives then … )
2. cat (if that lives then … )
3. dog (if that lives then … )
But I realized that we should have been much more specific when we hit the “dog” level of responsibility–and said “puppy” instead.
We adopted our new puppy, Chop, (see impossibly cute photo below) in November, when she was only 10 weeks old. That’s 10 weeks of constant peeing, gnawing and whining fluff ball. I WAS NOT PREPARED.
I have lost count of the number of conversations that have followed this trajectory in the last month:
me: “OH MY GOD, HUSBAND. SHE’S DOING SOMETHING ANNOYING!”
A: “She’s a puppy.”
me: “BUT … WHY DOESN’T SHE NOT DO THAT?”
A: “She’s a puppy. Be patient.”
me: “WHEN WILL SHE STOP.”
A: “Don’t ask.”
We have finished our first month of adoption, and Chop is now 14 weeks old. Her potty-training is getting better (although our poor doormat is a little worse for wear) and A is finally back to a normal sleep schedule. I still haven’t gotten used to the unending fountain of energy or her constant chewing, but we (I) are coping. The only thing I know for sure, is I’m SO HAPPY we experienced “puppy” before “baby” — hopefully it’s a kind of training wheels. … Right?
Now for adorable photos of Chop! Our delightful German Shepherd mix :