Dog Amore/Puppy Love?

Come late summer or early fall, or a year from now, or maybe two (it's anyone's guess, really), the Alley household will have a new addition in the form of a furry, white-and-apricot, squirmy little turd factory otherwise known as The Cavachon. We decided that THOR couldn't live without a life partner (...not that kind of life partner) after a dog-sitting incident gone awry that left THOR more depressed than either of us ever thought possible. By "incident gone awry" I don't mean imminent household destruction with Cody's sanity hanging by a thread (although there was, apparently, a territory-marking competition that left various yellow streaks on furniture just the right color that all pee evidence disappeared on contact, which left Cody questioning my sanity upon knowledge of said pee). By "incident gone awry" I mean that in the end, we wondered if we had a bipolar puppy on our hands; we have never seen such highs and lows in such a short span of time. 

Stop it. Stop laughing. Dog psychology is serious stuff, people. 

If THOR is anything, he isn't territorial. He's the most social little thing you'll ever meet, althought he is TERRIFIED of loud noises, particularly of the diesel truck variety, or any noise I make while washing the dishes. THOR was high on life with his new BFF Ollie who, from his perspective, had apparently taken up residence in his home. Then, here comes Mom and her friends after an overnighter in Flagstaff, barging in on all the fun, and off goes his new BFF Ollie with Mom's friends when they leave. 

Mom is not an acceptable substitute for the new BFF. Come to think of it, Mom isn't really an acceptable substitute for anything.

Within minutes, THOR sank into such a deep depression we couldn't help but wonder if we left him unattended long enough he would throw himself over the balcony to a grisly, lovesick death. Fortunately, he's a dog; they don't contemplate such things.

Cody and I had been thinking about getting a second dog for a while now. We weren't even really close to making the final decision, but this more or less sent us over the edge (is that an indication that we are going to raise narcissistic, selfish, greedy little brats when we have children of our own someday? Dog throws fit, we give in? Dog says jump, we buy another dog? This whole dog thing might not be the great preparation that we thought...). So we put a deposit down with a breeder in the White Mountains on a little girl Cavachon, and we are number six on the list. Immediately thereafter, my debit card was hacked and some idiot ran up more than $700 on three different wireless companies (p.s.- I don't recommend paying for anything through PayPal). Anyway, I digress. After the marking debacle, we decided another boy probably wouldn't be the best thing for our furniture, OR the deposit we put down on our apartment. Besides, if we get a girl dog, I will get to dress her up in cute doggie outfits, which I would never do (excessively) to THOR, because he already has a hard enough time being distinguished as a guy to begin with (see pictures).

All that said, I'll tell you what- if this is any indication of the chaos we can expect, we might need more than a few margaritas on the beach to make us feel normal again. While we don't have the four-year-old voicing her clearly important opinions on everything that goes on, all the time, we do have jobs that require us to leave home, which I think merits a bump up on the insanity factor (dogs don't sleep well at night after they have been sleeping all day while you're at work. We have a chewed-through down comforter and rogue feathers throughout our home to prove it). 

On an ever-so-slightly different note, Cody and I went to Borders last night to feed our unquenchable reading addiction (I suppose there are worse vices in the world). Because of my tendency to instantaneously develop a severe case of ADHD each and every time we visit any book store, we subsequently spend hours there, causing Cody to search high and low for hot pitchforks with which to gouge out his eyes- yes, even he, a fellow book addict, cannot match the time I like to spend surrounded by fafillions of books. In my fit of ADHD rage, I came across this little gem. I didn't even get to the end of the book's description before I crumpled in a corner bawling my eyes out asking God, "WHY!?!?! WHY DO YOU MAKE US LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND THEN LOSE THEM?!?!?! WHHHHYYYYYYY!!!!!" 

OK, so that was a little dramatic. Yeah... It didn't really happen like that. But it sure did make me want to go home and snuggle up with my little man and keep him safe from the big, bad world out there. Anyone who doesn't love dogs should be committed. Or... maybe that's me.


ktjane said...

will there be dogs in heaven???

aea said...

I refuse to believe that there wouldn't be, for two reasons: 1. Did you not see "All Dogs Go To Heaven"? Hello! and 2. Dog spelled backwards is GOD. Coincidence? I think not!

...If there aren't dogs in heaven, I want to go where they are.