…Andy is gone at a basketball game, there’s nothing on TV, and I’m sick of reading. So, I figured I’d blog even if it wasn’t really about pregnancy.
Andy and I have two dogs. We love them. Seriously.
So, I never grew up with pets, I never asked for a pony for Christmas, I’ve always thought zoos were lame, and I didn’t care much for animals in general. In fact, I made fun of people who doted on their dogs or cats, laughed at folks who bought their dogs gifts, and couldn’t ever imagine letting them in the house…much less on the couch. That was unsanitary and I just thought it was weird.
And so, I have become one of “them”. A couple years ago, I had baby fever and at one point I told Andy that he had to either give me a baby or a puppy. (Which if you read the paragraph above, is unusual). Needless to say, a few months later, little Abbie came home. She was the cutest little furball of a puppy, with big brown eyes and fur fluffier than a baby chick. That’s really all it took. I went from animal hater to animal sucker in two seconds flat. But then again, who can argue with this face? (Nelle, Andy’s cousin is holding her)
Abbie grew up into what I’ve now learned to call my Angel Dog. She slept through the night immediately (yes, just like babies!), only had a very small number of accidents in the house, never chewed on anything or dug a single hole, and would sit on command by halfway through the second day we had her. She grew up to be very obedient, and absolutely obsessed with her Daddy (see, I told you I got weird! I used to make fun of people like me!). Abbie truly worships the ground Andy walks on. I can be feeding her treats while rubbing her belly after just having taken her for a walk and played ball, and if Andy walks in the door (even without saying a word) I’m but a long forgotten memory. It’s kind of depressing. (In fact, I secretly fear that the same will happen with the baby). Abbie can play dead if you “shoot” her, shake, give a high five, sit, stay, make you an omlette for breakfast…
And so, after about a year, I thought that surely Abbie needed a friend. And I happened upon a Found Dog ad in the local Auto Trader. I called the lady and explained that while I wasn’t the owner, that I was interested in the event that the owner never showed up. Well, long story short, we brought home Ryley. It was then that I realized that Abbie wasn’t really a dog, but some smarter, more obedient version of a dog…from outer space. It’s not that Ryley is awful…okay, she was awful. Especially in the beginning. She had been abused so she was skittish and weird about stuff. She hadn’t quite grasped the idea that pottying was an outdoor activity (and she was already full grown so her accidents were much more painful than when Abbie was a ten pound puppy). Within the first three days of bringing Ry home, she had chewed through three pairs of MY shoes, MY $250 reading glasses, the remote control, and who knows what else. She also liked to dig holes in the lawn, and didn’t obey anything we said. I let go of her collar in the front yard and she immediately bolted towards the busy street. Poor thing was a mess. Now, six months later, she’s a doll. She’s still not quite done with the digging habit, but luckily we’re past the chewing. She comes on command…unless of course she’s much too comfortable. Ryley is like a giant teddy bear with a heartbeat. She loves to cuddle and lay around. She doesn’t really like playing fetch and while I think she knows what a “High Five” is, she just doesn’t feel she needs to expend the energy to actually do it. If she weren’t a dog, she’d probably live in some trailer in Louisiana. Not because she’s dumb…but because it’s just easier that way. This is a picture of Ryley in her own personal dog heaven (cuddled up in bed with my 2 little brothers):
Anyway, my point with all of this is just the realization I’ve come to about how different I’ve become in recent years. In lots of ways. All 150 pounds of dog sleep in our room (on mats by the bed), and promptly take my spot on the bed the second my alarm goes off. I feel terrible if it’s been too long since I’ve brought home a “surprise” for them, they have their own stockings, and we feed them the most expensive food on the market (literally). I can’t wait for them to meet the baby. I think they’ll love it. We joked the other day that in a few years, our kid will have Abbie pulling him (or her) down the street in his Radio Flyer Wagon while Ryley is cozied up next to him inside. I’ll be sure to take pictures. (The kids are my little sister and brothers).
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You failed to mention your use of the spray bottle to keep the dogs in line. Biniam is refusing to nap right now and that stuff is sounding better and better all the time…:)
Ah yes…bitter apple spray. The stuff is nasty, so it’s no wonder they obey! I may indeed keep it handy when the baby comes! j/k
HAHA, the image of you spraying it in your newborn’s eyes to get them to stop crying is literally making me laugh out loud right now!