The Defiance of Puppies
Last week, I quit my job, and we got a puppy. And now I need all the espresso and would welcome any unattended children to attend to my puppy.
My week has gone something like this — 5,812 “No’s!”, 343 pee’s and poop’s with a 70/30 split on them being in the desired location, 3 hours of sleep — puppies can’t hold it through the night, 2 head injuries (mine, not the puppy’s) — 1 with blood, and exponential kisses to his scrunchy, munchy face. It kinda sorta sounds like motherhood, no?
It’s been eight years.
There’s a reason people wait between children. It’s so amnesia kicks in and all they remember is puppy breath (or the smell of baby heads if you’re stuck on the human version) and snuggles. My eldest fur-baby is eight, and while I love her with all of my being, I still had to be talked in to this new puppy thing. Despite the head injuries, my amnesia failed. I might need a lobotomy.
Puppies pull out of you every ounce of patience you can muster. They have no awareness that you desperately need to brush your teeth so you can walk out the door on time to avoid traffic to get to work if they can only wait 12 seconds to pee. Nope, they pee when they find a good spot. Period.
Puppies remind you that you’re a big, hulking, clumsy beast in this world. They run under your feet and dare you to step on them. They go sliding in between couches and under beds and between pillows in a never-ending game of hide-and-go-seek you are inevitably going to lose.
Puppies test your resolve. They chew. All the things. All the time. Cardboard, carpet, plastic, paper, fingers, blankets, themselves, your shirt, your slippers, your laces, your face. It’s like a possessed version of teething. And no matter how many times you redirect to their approved turkey leg teething toy, they will decide they like your nose better. I have nightmares where hundreds of little piranha mouths creep up on me while I sleep.
Puppies inspire new problem solving skills. How can I take a shower while this jumping bean does laps around the house? How can I get some work done without him eating my laptop? How can I wear his ass out when it’s raining or 20 degrees outside? How can I feed two dogs simultaneously when one immediately eats the other’s food and the other tries to eat the first one’s face for daring to eat her food? See, it’s like a word puzzle on the GRE.
Puppies make you grateful for good days. Yesterday, we went to the park. We played with little people, of the non-fur variety. I had time to swap the new nugget out for the elder and take her on a long walk, just the two of us, like old times. We only peed once where we weren’t supposed to (the puppy, not me, although I thought about it), and the three of us took a blissful nap where both dogs were touching without anyone getting in a fight. SUCCESS!
Puppies remind you how deeply you can love. At the end of the day, when he’s puppy prone, it’s impossible not to just stare at him and gush. His wrinkles, his grunts, his floppy ears, and those man paws.
He is exhausting. But he, and we, are making progress. I have to believe that he was put in my life at this precise moment to remind me to have patience, and resolve. To laugh at myself, even when I have blood running down my face. To reignite my problem-solving creativity and test my ability to love unconditionally. He may be learning how to sit, but I’m remembering how to rise.
At the end of the day, when I too curl up, I have just as many wrinkles and just as much room to grow. And I am grateful.
