It's just a DOG! (Right?)
Today’s the day. I am picking up the new family pet. Well, let’s be honest – the replacement family pet.
About three years ago, I was duped into saying yes to my family when they requested we become the proud owners of a British Red Lab puppy being sold roadside just a few blocks away. I still remember the boyish gleam in his eyes as he rattled off all the reason’s why our growing family needed a new puppy. The pleading, the begging, the pouting, the stomping and let’s not forget the way his lower lip quivered when I continued to reject this absurd suggestion. Finally, Andy’s persistence wore on me. (Mind you, I was three months pregnant with Noah at the time, and really looking forward to being left alone for my Saturday afternoon nap.) I agreed to take a peek at this little distraction up the street. We refrained from telling Elliott that it was a potential new family member we were considering, but simply let him think we were nice enough to allow him some puppy playtime for a moment. Naturally once I saw the fluffy floppy red little fur balls, prenatal hormones took over, forced me to say “awwww…”. It was out of my hands from there on out. We took home our new puppy, Gromit.
In the past two and a half years, Gromit has managed to quadruple in size and it would appear to some that we received a license to keep a horse on our 50-foot “Old White Bear” lot. I could whine about the destruction he has caused, but that comes with the territory – it’s a puppy. It’s just a VERY BIG puppy. Because of the love I know Elliott has for his dog, I never followed through with my desire to shout, “I told you so!” and give Gromit the boot. Nowadays, Gromit spends most of his days outside where he can’t destroy valuable items (you know, silly little things like the couch.) Elliott is unable to spend a whole lot of time with Gromit being as he’s an “outside dog” and to make matters worse, whenever given the opportunity Gromit runs out of the yard and all over the neighborhood, crosses many busy streets, etc. When he’s tied to his lead, he lays around moping. I can’t be certain, but I’m think I saw him reading ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ the other day. It has become clear to us that a lab was not the dog our family was intended to own during this stage of our lives, and more importantly, ours is not the best family for Gromit.
We have a few people interested in Gromit. One wants to train a dog for hunting (which is what Gromit was bread for), another wants a playmate for his golden retriever and the third wants a family pet without the headache of potty training. We’re considering each thoroughly, and figure Gromit’s bon voyage will take place mid-January.
The good and somewhat impulsive news is that we have done our homework, and found a local breeder of Jack Russell Terrier’s. We pick the new fella up today and are stashing him at Auntie Alyssa’s until Christmas morning when the boys will wonder what’s making that big red package move around under the Christmas tree. While I have mixed emotions about our finding Gromit a new home, I am excited that the boys will now have a pet that belongs.
About three years ago, I was duped into saying yes to my family when they requested we become the proud owners of a British Red Lab puppy being sold roadside just a few blocks away. I still remember the boyish gleam in his eyes as he rattled off all the reason’s why our growing family needed a new puppy. The pleading, the begging, the pouting, the stomping and let’s not forget the way his lower lip quivered when I continued to reject this absurd suggestion. Finally, Andy’s persistence wore on me. (Mind you, I was three months pregnant with Noah at the time, and really looking forward to being left alone for my Saturday afternoon nap.) I agreed to take a peek at this little distraction up the street. We refrained from telling Elliott that it was a potential new family member we were considering, but simply let him think we were nice enough to allow him some puppy playtime for a moment. Naturally once I saw the fluffy floppy red little fur balls, prenatal hormones took over, forced me to say “awwww…”. It was out of my hands from there on out. We took home our new puppy, Gromit.
In the past two and a half years, Gromit has managed to quadruple in size and it would appear to some that we received a license to keep a horse on our 50-foot “Old White Bear” lot. I could whine about the destruction he has caused, but that comes with the territory – it’s a puppy. It’s just a VERY BIG puppy. Because of the love I know Elliott has for his dog, I never followed through with my desire to shout, “I told you so!” and give Gromit the boot. Nowadays, Gromit spends most of his days outside where he can’t destroy valuable items (you know, silly little things like the couch.) Elliott is unable to spend a whole lot of time with Gromit being as he’s an “outside dog” and to make matters worse, whenever given the opportunity Gromit runs out of the yard and all over the neighborhood, crosses many busy streets, etc. When he’s tied to his lead, he lays around moping. I can’t be certain, but I’m think I saw him reading ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ the other day. It has become clear to us that a lab was not the dog our family was intended to own during this stage of our lives, and more importantly, ours is not the best family for Gromit.
We have a few people interested in Gromit. One wants to train a dog for hunting (which is what Gromit was bread for), another wants a playmate for his golden retriever and the third wants a family pet without the headache of potty training. We’re considering each thoroughly, and figure Gromit’s bon voyage will take place mid-January.
The good and somewhat impulsive news is that we have done our homework, and found a local breeder of Jack Russell Terrier’s. We pick the new fella up today and are stashing him at Auntie Alyssa’s until Christmas morning when the boys will wonder what’s making that big red package move around under the Christmas tree. While I have mixed emotions about our finding Gromit a new home, I am excited that the boys will now have a pet that belongs.
posted by Felecia at Tuesday, December 21, 2004
1 Comments:
Felecia~
OK, I'm procrastinating working out, so this can't be long. But I can appreciate your dog woes. We had (90lb) Weimeriner when I was pregnant with Evy. He was a rescue dog and already a year when we got him. Jayson always said he was a rebel because he'd done "hard time" in the pound.
We got rid of Jake by sending him to a neighbor in our condo complex (yes, an EXTREMELY energetic dog in a condo...I know: what WERE we thinking?!) When Evy was a few months old, Jake was given back to the rescue society. He had begun peeing on his new master's bed (with the master still in it!!)
It was sad, but now Jake is a show dog in Indiana and has found a home and a family where he is much happier. And this past spring we bought a small dog (Harry Winston) who fits nicely into our lives. You know I grew up wiht nothing but big dogs, and I was VERY skeptical about letting this "non-dog" into our homes. (Why not just get a cat, right?) But he's certainly all dog, and lots of fun.(Plus, he gets enough exersize just running around the house!) Good luck with your new little bundle. I look forward to hearing how the introduction goes on Christmas day!!
(are you considering Christmasy names? Maybe Yule??
Maybe Frasier (for a frasier fir tree???)??? Have fun!
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