My humble apologies…

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I should apologize to all those new mothers out there who, over the years, have bored me to tears with stories of their babies, when I never  had and never wanted to have a baby (human) of my own.  Even “The View” has become tedious to watch lately because it seems that Right-Wing-Nut-Case, Elizabeth, is forever talking about babies, as was the Left-Wing-Nut-Case, Rosie O’Donnell, for that matter.  Talk about babies has always bored me to tears, and I’ve been thankful, now that I’m heading toward the big SIX-OH mark, that not many of my friends do much talking about babies anymore.

So how come I’m preparing to attend a baby shower tommorow? 

My friend is having a “grand”child soon, that’s why!  I guess I can’t escape it!

But the reason I opened with an apology before was because now that I am the mother of a puppy, aged 16 weeks today, all I can think of to talk about anymore is puppy-related stuff.  That’s the main reason I haven’t written regular entries for so long now.  I figured you are all bored to tears about puppy stuff… so it’s been easier to just keep quiet.

Well, I won’t say much here either, but just wanted to pop in two pics I took just now of my puppies – one 16 weeks old, and the other 3 yrs old – Kip and Emmalee.

They consume all my energy and time since Kip came here to live just 4 short weeks ago.  It’s seems like a year!  Our house is littered with toys, chewies, bones, stuffed squeaky things… and on the all-too-often occasion when one of us forgets and puts the toilet paper on the actual toilet-paper holder in either of the two bathrooms, there are streams and streams of TP strewn throughout the house, going from the bathroom wall, out into the rest of the house. 

Yes, Kip’s favorite game is to TP our house! On the inside.

Oy!

Trying to get my work done here at my computer is a real challenge.  Depending on what kind of day Kip is having.  Some days he’s a little angel, but there are others (too many) when he’s got that impish devil-look in his eye, and he’s nothing but trouble from the get-go.  I am worn out running after him, picking up after him, yelling “NO KIP!”, “DON’T EAT THAT, KIP”, HURRY UP AND DO YOUR PEES AND GET BACK IN THE HOUSE, KIP” – until I’m just about wasted.

Anyway, there’s my puppy rant for the day.  Sorry to any of you animal haters (oh, I hope I don’t have any animal haters reading my blog… if you are, you can just leave, because we have nothing in common).  But for those of you who may be animal lovers but have some nice adult-aged pets, who don’t rock the boat now that they’ve matured, I will stop – and repeat – this is the LAST puppy we are ever adopting.  Ever. 

(P.S. – I must say that Kip is just as sweet as can be when he wants to be, and he has stolen my heart completely.  Even Emmalee is having fun every day racing around our little house and getting in lots of exercise with her new little brother!)

You can click on the photos for larger versions. 

Note the little black dot on Kip’s nose?  I tried so hard to rub that off, thinking it was dirt.  But it won’t rub off, so I got out my magnifying glass, and it turns out he’s got a tiny little spot of black furs growing right there – I think it’s his “kissing spot” because that’s where I kiss him about a gazillion times a day.  He was either kissed by an angel just there, or kissed by the devil – not sure yet just which, but it’s there to stay.

Woofs!

Bex

 

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Three Cheers for the Dogs!

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That’s my goose-down comforter (duvet) that Kip is sinking his baby-teeth into in the picture above (click photo for larger view).  It’s just one example of the quadrillions of things he sinks his teeth into each day here at Crow Cottage – including human skin! 

I’ll be very glad when puppyhood is behind us – even though he is cute as a button, and believe me, when he’s sleeping or being quiet (which isn’t often enough) he’s a pretty picture of puppydom – so we can get on to the task of having a full fledged collie dog here again. 

I am running on empty.  Each day it seems I can’t make it to the end – bedtime – when I can climb under my duvet and just rest without having to dart my eyes around to every corner of the room to see if he’s getting into some trouble or not. 

Not that he’s that bad – I’m sure he’s average or normal for a pup.  But as I head toward 60, and have aches and pains where I never even knew I had body parts, this business of raising a puppy is way too hard. 

I guess we’ll survive, but if I EVER – repeat EVER! – mention in here again that we are interested in adopting a puppy, please get together and do an intervention for me to bring me back to my senses!  OK?

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Cheers for the dogs,

Bex

It’s not all black and white…

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I said it 8 years ago, when we got Whitby as a pup.  No more puppies for me!  Now I remember WHY I said it!

Not that I don’t love this little fluff-ball to pieces.

Because I do.  Truly, I love him to pieces.

But there is a limit!  I hope I haven’t reached it yet, but yesterday I would have sworn I had.

Puppyhood may very well be my downfall.

All I keep thinking of is “How can I get the next year to zoom by real fast so he’s a grown-up-type dog with manners, street-smarts, and fewer bad habits?”

That’s all I need to know – how I can make that happen.

He likes to chew everything.

Every last thing in the house is his favourite thing to chew.

Actually, after reading testimonials online from other puppy-moms, Kip doesn’t chew as much as SOME dogs do – not yet anyway.  But he’s only been here a week today – give him time!

For the first week, I had to wait for Paul to return home from fishing in the late afternoon before I could leave to go to my office to drop off and pick up more work.  Kip has not been trained, in any sort of way, including crate-trained.  He won’t wear a collar or go on a lead, he occasionally piddles and poops (well, only once/twice respectively, so far!) on the dining room rug (which is being rolled up today and stored in the basement until he has learned a few rules around here!).  I have to take him outside a bazillion times a day, and sometimes he just sits there on the grass, enjoying the fine day, the birds singing, the trees rustling – thinking that life is good.

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I hope his life will be good with us. 

I hope I make it thru his puppyhood in one piece.

Oh, his (previous) floppy ear has righted itself and now both ears are pointing straight up to the sky!  They are huge, as the pictures here clearly show.  He resembles a fox when he is dashing about on the front lawn.  Paul plays with them and they get to run around a lot.  We haven’t had the time yet to start teaching things.  

It’s been hectic this week here, with a parent going to the hospital, and all the accompanying worry that goes along with that, and running around, and accommodating people, and trying to work each day, and keep the dogs happy, and not fighting (puppy-fighting, not serious) and not chewing forbidden parts of the house, and keeping them outside often enough that they don’t permanently soil the floors. 

It’s all been just about too much for me this week, and I don’t mind telling you, this next week had better be an improvement.   I’ve got Paul on the case of providing some barriers (to keep them either upstairs when I’m up here, or downstairs when I’m down there)  and he promised to mow the lawns later today when he returns from work.  Having high grass in the front garden doesn’t sit well with my puppers… they don’t like wading thru the high grass, and neither do I.

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Lord Give Me Strength!

 

Bex