Soooo I brought home a puppy. I didn’t really ask anyone if it was a good idea. I didn’t seek out advice from any experts, nor do I really know much about being an effective dog trainer. I did read a few articles specific to Bassett hounds, and I was excited because it was something I wanted, and found an avenue where Colin helped me achieve something I wanted. But selfishly, I plodded ahead full steam, as I often do. It is my personality to jump in to things - realize the water is over my head, and then learn to swim. Cart always before the horse. Project components purchased before I even know if the project will be possible. I like to think of it is enthusiasm for life. The problem is - I married a planner. He likes to think of the details. The how. The financial aspects. The possibilities of what could go wrong. And then, after weighing everything out carefully, he likes to plan some more. So basically my polar opposite.
And I have loved this man since I was 19 years old. There has never been a thought of me loving or living with anyone else beside me. I know I make his life an upside down, eye rolling, insanity festival. He knows it too. A while ago, I was talking to my sister in law, (Jim’s sister) and she suggested to me that perhaps he likes the insanity. I have always thought Pam was pretty smart, and I have thought about it some. I am not sure if he loves the insanity, or if he just loves me, but I am thankful for him.
The first night with the puppy was pretty rough. She was mourning and sad and cried unless I was holding her. I stayed up pretty much all night, and honesty I didn’t mind it. I felt bad for the little beast I had taken from her mother, and forced to go to a new place full of other dogs, not all of whom were very welcoming (Carlos). I slept for short bursts, but basically it was just rough. So yesterday, we played outside. I forced the little tiny dog to run around, she followed me all over the yard, she helped me water trees. Mallory came out and she played fetch (sort of) with Mallory’s dogs. We picked up sticks from the yard. Preston and Sunny came for a visit. They played with her some. And when it was time for bed, she was tired. I rocked her to sleep and put her in her kennel and she was out! Jim was still watching tv, but I was exhausted so I went on to bed.
I heard it storming in the night, and I rolled over and had the brief thought that I hadn’t heard the puppy, and smugly I thought all the fresh air must have worked!
When the alarm rang for me to get up and ready for mass, I realized my baby dog slept all night! Wahooo! Then I realized Jim wasn’t in bed. I came out to the living room to find my beast of a husband laying on the couch with a tiny little puppy stretched out asleep on his chest. He looked like hell. I asked if he had gotten any sleep - he said no - he started to go to bed but the baby was crying and so he took her out to potty. And then she was so happy when he was holding her but when he put her in the kennel she would cry so he just held her. Then it started to storm and Blitz was scared, so they all just stayed in the living room watching tv together.
I asked why he didn’t come get me. He said because you stayed up all night the night before.
Seriously, I do not think I could love this man any more than I do.
And I’m positive he loves me too, and also that “my” new dog will solidly be his. All of the dogs we have, I have drug home. And not a single one of them would choose me if they were forced to pick between us. I won’t make them choose, but I know. I choose insanity, Jim chooses calm. I choose chaos, Jim chooses to tame everything. I think he is my exact opposite, but also everything I ever needed to make my life happy.
Also, I’m not sorry even one little bit for bringing home this tiny widdle dog. Despite the lack of sleep, despite the accidental poo on the floor, despite the puncture wounds from little puppy teeth and toe nails, look at her. She is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen (except our kids/grand kids of course).
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