Goodbye Puppy Love

The other day I found the CUTEST PUPPY EVER running in traffic so I rescued him.  There were three dogs, actually, but I was only able to rescue the one.  I’ve never done anything like that before.  I’m not a “dog person” at all.  I never had a dog growing up; never understood the dog-as-baby thing; was always kind of afraid of dogs actually.  But now I understand.

He was so cute!  I brought him inside and texted my trainer Mel.  (She has a dog!  She knows everything!)

Lisa:  “Sorry again about oversleeping and missing my training session.  What do puppies eat?”

While awaiting her response I gave the puppy the next best thing:  Cheerios.  ‘Cause babies eat Cheerios, right?  I’ve never been around puppies before, just adult dogs who would look at me and be like, “Woof.  Whatever.”  But this puppy LOVED me.  He was jumping in my lap and licking my face and I picked him up and said,

“You’re my third baby!”

Mel texted back to say lose the Cheerios and feed him something natural like chicken.  “Ha ha!  My clean eating puppy!”  Winston.  Because maybe he was an English bull dog, so Winston (as in Churchill) would be the perfect name.  After cuddling some more with Wrinkles (that would be a good name too because his forehead was wrinkly – but maybe I should call him Botox?) he fell asleep under the table.

Blog when the puppy sleeps!  So I posted about it.  My friend Obidia sent me a text, “Saw that you fed the dog Cheerios and thought you might need some help.”  She came over with puppy food, dog toys and a collar.  Thank God she brought the puppy chow because little Titan wasn’t eating the chicken I made him.  Then I thought, “I am the worst cook ever.  Not even the dog will eat my cooking…”

• “We should take him outside so he can go to the bathroom.”
• “Does he need sunscreen on his nose?  It’s pretty pink.”

Obidia just laughed.  She also thought it was pretty funny I gave Buster my daughter’s shoe to play with.  (I thought dogs are supposed to play with shoes so they can learn to fetch slippers, right?)  I called my husband, Henri, after she left.

• “Henri, I found the CUTEST DOG EVER!  Look at the pictures on my blog!”
• “You rescued a dog?  I thought you were scared of dogs?”  He was opening his computer and pulling up my blog.
• “Not this one.  He’s so cute and cuddly.”
• “Honey, you just rescued a pit bull.”
• “Excuse me?”
• “That’s a pit bull.  You know, the kind Michael Vick trained to fight?”
• “I could name him Gangsta!”
• “It’s not your dog and you better find the owner before the kids get home or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  

I had already contacted the HOA and printed up “Found Puppy” signs…I just didn’t hang them up yet.  Little Cujo woke up and he was shivering so I had to wrap him up in a blanket and cuddle with him some more.  And dogs need exercise, right?  So we played catch in the backyard.  Then he fell asleep again.

Puppies are so awesome!  Just when you’re starting to get bored playing catch they fall asleep!  Why don’t my kids do that?  So I taped up the signs in the neighborhood and came back home.  He was still sleeping.  I left to get the kids and told them we were babysitting the neighbor’s dog (so they wouldn’t think little Rex was ours.)

Even though he has spots, naming him Spot would be too ordinary.  What if I named him something ironic, like Fifi?  I could introduce him by saying, “This is my badass pit bull, Fifi.”  (Now go back and read that sentence again, only this time picture Dr. Dre saying it.  Sounds waaay funnier now, doesn’t it?)  But then he woke up and looked at me with those blue eyes that said, “Mom, for the love of God, please don’t name me something stupid.”

• “Any luck finding the owner?” asked Henri on the phone.
• “Nope.”
• “Is it a male or female?”
• “Barney is a boy.”
• “Oh, great.  He’ll be marking his turf by chewing the furniture and peeing everywhere.  Did you put him outside like I asked?”
• “Umhuhna,” I mumbled then hung up.

Mumbling is the best option when you neither want to lie nor tell the truth.  Little Henry had made friends with Snoop Dogg (sorry, Snoop Lion) and gathered up all the balls in the house.  He then demonstrated how to play fetch.

Then Big Henri came home.  Ask me how happy he was that I rescued a pit bull.  He was not happy.

“Alright, he’s pretty cute, I’ll give you that.  But we have to find his home.  You know, the lady who cuts my hair has a pit bull puppy and he’s even cuter than this one.”

I sat up straight and bristled.  “No one is cuter than little 2Pac!”

But then Henri and the kids took the dog in the neighborhood and they found the owner.  They lived one development over from ours.  While I happy that he is back home, I really miss little Ronin, my master-less Samaria warrior dog.

A goldfish is not going to cut it as a pet.  “The kids” are going to really benefit from getting a puppy soon.  What type of puppy is good with kids?

Lisa

 

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