I'm listening to our puppy attack something in the backyard. We've had some trouble with him lately. I'm not naturally a dog person- I truly believe there's nothing like the love of a cat- but when we got Lucky, our old man last year, he was so sweet and loving and EASY. So I figured a puppy would be no big deal. Oh, it's a big deal. A big shitty deal. Ok, it could totally be worse. He could rip our couch apart or shit in the house but knock on wood, we haven't experienced that as of yet. However, my life is dogs. They're everywhere. And if they're not with me, their hair is. Mainly Crash's (the puppy). I swear I have never in my life seen clumps of hair just appear somewhere the way they do not. And he's not even a super shed-y dog!
And don't even ASK about our floors. He chewed through the cord to my brand new Shark floor steamer (literally brand new. I had just bought it.) and then decided "screw my parents, I'm gonna track mud in on an hourly basis. Kill me. Thank God for hardwood floors or the dog might be dead right now.
I am definitely not taking life as a dog owner well, but then I look at how happy they make my husband and it seriously warms my cold, frozen heart. Just a little, but it does. Sigh. Crash is attacking our bedroom door now. Gotta go.
No comments:
Post a Comment