Saturday, November 14, 2009

Bringing Home the Baby...

...makes me not want to have a real baby!!!

Nah, not really, its not that bad! Its fun! RNH and I picked up our bundle of joy on Friday afternoon. We practically ran in some stranger's home, grabbed the pup, handed her a check, and peaced-out. We were so excited to have the dang thing. All this worrying and debating over names, and 2 minutes in the car with a zonked out puppy, we name it. Drake. Its typical, yes. But adorable as well. And hopefully it will be a fitting name... only time will tell!

We are in the car for about 5 minutes when I realize, wait... I just stripped a mother of its child. I'm devastated. I feel like a baby-napper. I just ripped a baby from its bayonet in the hospital, and ran through the double doors without anyone ever knowing. I am terrible. I didn't even let the mother say goodbye to her son. Or let Drake say goodbye to his brothers and sisters. They were all he had, all he's ever known. Okay. Get over it.

We take him home and try to introduce him to his new home. Small and humble, yet a chewy-toy world for a young pup. We get pretty bored with the house and whisk him away out to the great outdoors. Down to the pond.

RNH wants to see if the fish are biting. Its a pretty decently warm November day and the tropical storm monsoon that we just had is passed. Its our first day to get back out, and we've got a pup to share the world with!




RNH and I walk down the trail with Drake nipping at our heels. I don't think of it much, but we're going downhill towards the water. Suddenly I stop before going too far, and Drake, of course doesn't know what is going on and can't stop in time. He immediately tumbles and rolls down the hill, falling into the pond water. Instead of freaking out and whimpering, he is immediately curious. Yes! We've got a water dog from Day 1! He loved it, but it was cold so he didn't stay in too long.


He also enjoyed checking out Dad's tackle box
and chewing on any small trees in the area.

He left the chickens alone, probably because they're bigger than him. And he didn't really pay any mind to Chloe the kitty. She, of course, detests him and automatically feels that we've replaced her. Hopefully she'll get over that- quick.

Everything was going fine-and-dandy until bed time. RNH and I had an early morning, so we called it quits around 9:30pm. We sectioned Drake off in a corner of the kitchen so that any accidents would easily be cleaned up. After putting him to bed, and laying down myself, I begin to hear whimpers, barks, and yelps. He will quit, I think to myself. Ohhhh but he doesn't. Eventually I walk into the kitchen, sit down next to him, not really paying him attention, but lay my hand on his side. His breathing slows, he quiets and eventually falls asleep. Success! Ohhhh but the night was young.

I woke up on the hour, every hour with a yelping pup. Each time he had taken a poo or pee on the floor. Which means I have to clean up. I'm groggy, yet gagging on the smell of puppy poo. Awesome.

As the night progresses, I finally learn that his noises mean he's waking up because he has to potty. Duh. I learned that if I jump out of bed at the slightest noise, I can intercept him before he does his business in the house. But, of course, I realize this at sun-up. Great.

Six o'clock in the morning, I just decide to stay up with him. Its opening day of Duck Season and since I can't partake in the festivities, I can at least be out there listening to the other lucky hunters enjoying themselves. It also gets Drake used to hearing gun fire. It was actually a very enjoyable walk in the brisk morning, listening to gunfire and ducks flying overhead, all while a puppy is plodding along your side. Not bad. I decided I have to have many more mornings like this!

3 comments:

  1. Yayyyyyyyyyyyy, he is totally adorable and I love the name.

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  2. ... I think you mean bassinet instead of bayonet :) Still very funny that you had that reaction!!!

    Mrs. K

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