right now, the pug, who is nearly 14 weeks old, is on my lap, grunting and blinking. He has just settled in and let a big fart. On my lap. Fifteen minutes ago he was chewing my dining room chair. AAAGGGHH! It's a freakin antique! Get your teeth off it!!!!
Then he was attached to my slipper as I walked down the hall. I tell him to drop it. He darn well knows what that means. And then he's right back at it, approved chew toy ignored. I come downstairs and set him on my lap and he wraps his jaws around the edge of my desk. Grrrr.....
I love him but he's driving me crazy...and I do not have far to go, people.
Please believe, I did the research before he came home. I spent a year reading up and asking dog owners what it's all about. Especially the finer points of keeping a dog in town and, you know, having him wear a collar and license and stuff like that. And I knew what I was in for with a puppy. I cannot say I wasn't warned.
I find myself wondering why the puppies I grew up with didn't make me this crazy. Heres' why:
1) I was a kid then. Now I'm the mother.
2) our puppies lived in the barn. There were no antique chairs in the barn.
3) I wasn't as depressed at age 10 as I am now!
I have to admit, now that he's part of our family, I can't imagine not having him. He's funny and loyal and stubborn and cuddly and I love him to pieces. Just like he loves that old towel in his kennel to pieces.