And then, somewhere within the deepest recesses of your brain, a wire short circuits with a Snap! Crackle! Pop!...AND YOU BUY ONE.
I am certain I have lost my mind.
I have been the clueless owner of a mini-Doxie for two days now, and I have to tell you...I AM EXHAUSTED. I am ready to run a Diet Coke IV through one of my veins. I am ready to curl up in the fetal position, in a corner in my kitchen, and mutter incoherently. (Oh wait! I don't really have a clean corner to have a nervous breakdown in...THE DOGGY HAS POOPED IN ALL OF THEM!) I'm ready to put those damn Keebler elves out of business with all the cookies I've been stuffing in my mouth. I'm ready to put an ad in the classifieds: How much is that doggy in Mama Leisha's window? It's FREE! It's FREE!
Puppies are hard, hard work--requiring oodles of patience and time. I admit I felt a bit overwhelmed today; wondering if I'm up to the challenge of training a dog, questioning my abilities, worrying the attention our puppy requires would "spread me thin" and make me a lousy mom. My musings resulted in several tears and a visit to my Christmas stocking, to retrieve the Watchamacallit candy bar McHubby had put in there. After taking a moment to myself to "pull it together," (and after licking the chocolate off my fingers), I decided I had been pushed to the brink and that the pup would have to go. I went into the next room and saw this:
Meet the newest member of our family.
Lilly wants to name her Sally.