I didn’t want a dog. I’m allergic. I didn’t want to do the work. I knew the responsibility would fall to me.
I wasn’t really wrong.
Look at how cute he was, though. Like you could resist.
He was naughty at first. Nipping hands, scratching arms…
He even did a lot of damage to the furniture.
We used to spray bitter apple on everything to deter him from biting, chewing, and otherwise destroying. It helped a little bit.
Those first few years were TOUGH.
People have said, “Oh, he’s a labradoodle – it’s that lab side of him that makes him so playful and young – he’s gonna be like a puppy until he’s about four years old.”
Uh. What?
But he’s gotten mellower, our puppy has. And though he’s still a bit on the excitable side, and though he still likes to chew the heck out of everything, he’s so much a part of our family that I can’t imagine our world without him.
When he catches a glimpse of The Princess walking home from her bus stop, he races back and forth from one window to the next until she approaches the front door where he waits, tail wagging, to greet her when she enters.
When he hears Pumpkin’s bus, he stares intently out the window until she starts walking up the driveway and then he races to the door to welcome her home.
Yesterday, The Princess didn’t come home. She had rehearsal for her school musical.
He saw her friend approaching and did his typical window race and then he waited.
And he waited.
And he waited.
And she never came in the door.
And he was sad.
Tonight, I picked the girls up from their dad. Puppy was eager the whole way, standing next to my seat. We pulled in the parking lot and I asked, “Are you ready to see your girls?” He jumped onto the passenger seat, tail wagging, his eyes scanning the parking lot. Waiting for his people.
It’s these kinds of things that make me love him more – that he knows that we love him and that he loves us back. Just as he matters to us tremendously, I can tell that we matter to him. That his demeanor is different when the girls aren’t around, that he actually appears sad when he doesn’t get to curl up with Pumpkin in the morning to watch cartoons or in the evening with The Princess – you can tell his puppy world is off kilter.
As I type, he’s curled up next to me on the couch. I love this time of day, just the two of us – one with opposable thumbs and one without – just holding the couch down.
The girls are home and my house is settling from the loudness that’s been missing for the past few days. I can tell he’s feeling it – and is now joyfully exhausted. His people are home.
I’m glad I was forced to cave in to the whole ‘getting a puppy thing’ because my life is better with him in it.
I can easily say that now that I’m out of furniture for him to chew.
– and I find myself moving very slowly through it – afraid I won’t love it as much as its predecessor. Does anyone else do that when reading a sequel?
Where You’ll Find Me