Dreams,husbands,Sir Boba, a little pee, and the Tuesday when the poop didn’t come.

So a couple weeks ago, I had a dream. At the time, it seemed like such a sweet, innocent dream. I dreamt that we had a new puppy. He was smoky gray and little and our other pup loved him too. I woke up feeling all warm and fuzzy on puppy love.

I probably should have buried that dream in a locked treasure chest, but…I didn’t. I told my husband. I’m an over-sharer. I think those of you that are still reading our blog know this already. This particular overshare has turned my little world upside down. The day after I told my husband about dream puppy, he got an email from a shelter. Oh no! Not a sign! Come on! Normally, I love signs, but I knew where this sign was pointed.

You see, my husband is a dog person. He likes them and they like him. He’ll play with them, walk them, and discipline them. He’s not a dog whisperer, but they always seem to listen to him anyway. And then there’s me.

I’m not a dog person. I like them and I’ll be sweet to them, but I get waaay too frustrated to handle the discipline and demeanor it takes to guide and lead them. But I DO try my very best. I try my best all the time.

After a lengthy discussion on the pros and cons of getting a new pup, I caved and said yes. Sigh. Why oh why did I cave? I should know by now that every time I cave, my mommy workload seems to double.

Enter Sir Boba Fett, an unneutered, untrained ball of energy, pee, and poop. He’s a pug/pitbull mix. Yep, you read that right. Pug/pitbull. Yes he’s a puppy and yes he’s cute, but some days I want to go hide in the bathroom and pretend that he’s still just a dream puppy. But I can’t hide long or he’ll have an accident. *groan*

Let me paint the picture of why I’m sitting here typing this blog post today. This morning started at 6 as usual. I take the puppy out to pee and poop and he goes no problem. Then I put him back in his bed while the girls eat, or he’ll sit there and beg at their feet for one of them to drop a morsel of food down to him. It’s fine because he sleeps for awhile until the 4-year-old gets up. When she comes into the room, he does this peeping whine like a baby chick. I feed her then I let the other “child” out of his crate so he can eat. After that it’s out to pee and poop some more.

I feel like I should pause here to mention that I’ve been in a particularly foulish mood today. When I get that way, I just want things to go smoothly. But they never ever do. This is where things start to go awry. I should have known when the dog food bag wouldn’t open like it normally does, that things were about to go downhill. I feed him his food for lunch and then take him outside. He only pees. I walk him around over and over, but nothing. I get him in and he sits by the door. We’ve been inside maybe five minutes and he starts doing his poopy dance. I’m just trying to make my lunch at this point, but instead of enjoying my tuna sandwich, I bring him outside…again. No poop. Again! He goes just a little bit of pee and whines and whimpers as we walk around, pulling at the leash to go inside, like we haven’t done this routine every single day since we brought him home. Sigh.

So I grudgingly take him back inside. I’m stomping around the kitchen pissed and muttering at the pup, because of course he decided he didn’t want to poop after lunch. Then I’m grumbling to myself about how my husband gets to eat his lunch in peace. He works from home, but if he’s on a call, I become the royal dog walker indefinitely. Grrrrr. I admit it wasn’t my finest moment acting so petty and childish, but I was hungry and tired and I’m just sick of my daily life suddenly revolving around the appearance of pee or poop.

I put the pup back in his crate so I can eat without him having an accident. Trust me when I say he will. He poops like clockwork now, and always after he eats…except for today. I ate my lunch quickly and in a huff, biting into each raw green bean just a little harder than necessary, because I just know he’ll be whimpering in a minute to go out again. Because he always has to frickin’ poop! And what does the little turd do? He goes to sleep! He’s even snoring. I rushed through my food for nothing!! *deep breath*

I’m going to open the new bag of Doritos I bought this morning. Somewhere deep down, I must have known I’d need their cheesy support. You can always count on Doritos to make you feel better. But before I do anything, I think the dog is awake; and you know what that means? Yep. More poop. Happy Tuesday, everyone!  🙂






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