Last week, in Barnes and Noble, I flipped through a book about Maltese dogs:
Laura: "Ha! Listen to this: 'If you want a baby, adopt a Maltese. If you want a dog, look elsewhere.'"
Ian: "Dear God. Truer words were never written."
Winnie's Blankie:
Laura: "Ha! Listen to this: 'If you want a baby, adopt a Maltese. If you want a dog, look elsewhere.'"
Ian: "Dear God. Truer words were never written."
Winnie's Blankie:
Winnie has a blankie. It's cute, actually.
She likes to pile every toy she owns onto it and drag it in circles.
Laura: "Today, Winnie loaded all her toys onto Blankie and pulled them into the kitchen."
Ian: "That's fairly organized for an animal."
Laura: "She's gifted!"
Ian: "Let's not go overboard."
Winnie's Toys:
Winnie has an absolute menagerie of toys. My mom buys tons of cheap crap at yard sales for Winnie to play with, mostly stuffed animals that squeak.
She fixates on certain toys, dragging them everywhere, often leaving them by the toilet. In the afternoons, she'll run in circles, jubilantly squeaking her favorite toy of the moment.
Ian: "That's actually pretty cute. It warms my cold heart."
Laura: "Aww. New Daddy loves Winnie!"
Ian: "New Daddy tolerates Winnie."
She fixates on certain toys, dragging them everywhere, often leaving them by the toilet. In the afternoons, she'll run in circles, jubilantly squeaking her favorite toy of the moment.
Ian: "That's actually pretty cute. It warms my cold heart."
Laura: "Aww. New Daddy loves Winnie!"
Ian: "New Daddy tolerates Winnie."
Winnie's Wardrobe:
My dog has a wardrobe.
Baby-Sitting:
Winnie craves human attention.
Ian has finally accepted that having Winnie means rearranging schedules and changing plans in order to spend time with the dog.
In the evenings, we plan dog-friendly activities. Or rather, I plan dog-friendly activities.
Ian: "Where should we go eat?"
Laura: "Chik-fil-A! They have a drive-through! And outdoor tables! We can take Winnie!"
Ian: <Exasperated>
When we watch TV? This:
Ian, a cat person, feels irritated by Winnie's neediness.
Ian: "Cats can take care of themselves. If Harvey got loose, he'd survive. If Winnie got loose, she'd get hit by a car."
Laura: "That would be sad."
Ian. "Uh...yeah. That would be...sad."
Potty-Training.
Winnie potty-trained quickly. After a mere two weeks, she was rock-solid in the potty-training department. But that was in my apartment. She felt confused about doo doo decorum in unfamiliar places.
For at least a month, she took one dump per week in my parents' dining room. Likewise, she peed a few times on Ian's rug during her early visits.
She has since outgrown having accidents. Still, Winnie weighs eight pounds. Her bladder is the size of a peanut. She has to potty A LOT. Winnie wakes me nearly every night, urgent to take a 3:00 am crap.
Additionally, when Winnie sleeps too long during the weekdays, she often bounces around on the bed at night, bursting with pent-up energy.
Laura: "I don't know if I could handle the sleep deprivation caused by a real baby someday. It's hard enough with Winnie.”
Ian: "That's were you're wrong. Winnie's much worse than a baby. Winnie jumps on my head and digs into my back all night. When I wake up, I feel like what comes out of her rear end at 3:00 am. At least a baby would bring some emotional reward."
Last month, we went to Hollywood Feed to buy dog food.
Laura: "This is a special visit. Now that Winnie is a year old, I have to buy adult food. No more puppy chow. My baby is growing up."
Winnie potty-trained quickly. After a mere two weeks, she was rock-solid in the potty-training department. But that was in my apartment. She felt confused about doo doo decorum in unfamiliar places.
For at least a month, she took one dump per week in my parents' dining room. Likewise, she peed a few times on Ian's rug during her early visits.
She has since outgrown having accidents. Still, Winnie weighs eight pounds. Her bladder is the size of a peanut. She has to potty A LOT. Winnie wakes me nearly every night, urgent to take a 3:00 am crap.
Additionally, when Winnie sleeps too long during the weekdays, she often bounces around on the bed at night, bursting with pent-up energy.
Laura: "I don't know if I could handle the sleep deprivation caused by a real baby someday. It's hard enough with Winnie.”
Ian: "That's were you're wrong. Winnie's much worse than a baby. Winnie jumps on my head and digs into my back all night. When I wake up, I feel like what comes out of her rear end at 3:00 am. At least a baby would bring some emotional reward."
Last month, we went to Hollywood Feed to buy dog food.
Laura: "This is a special visit. Now that Winnie is a year old, I have to buy adult food. No more puppy chow. My baby is growing up."
Laura: <Feels weepy>
Ian: <Feels irritated>
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