Once Upon a Puppy…

Chesney’s latest canine enrichment class is dubbed “Courageous Canines – How to turn your Chicken into a Lion”. Chesney has decided, in his teenage phase, that new people are out to get him and any and all dogs should immediately be jumped on regardless of size, breed, or personality. If this act is prohibited by his strict puppy parents he goes into full meltdown complete with screaming, scrambling, writhing, hopping, choking desperation. He also goes temporarily deaf when sniffing the grass and no amount of calling, coaxing, hollering, or natural disasters can cause him to snap out of it. The infamous “recall word” puppy class expressed as essential to dog obedience has not stuck with our model hound. You know, in case of emergency your dog should have a fail-safe word that reboots their brain and causes them to drop everything and rush to your side? Unless you are wearing a suit made of puppy biscuits, dancing an Irish jig, and blithely calling the “recall word” you may as well just accept the fact that he cannot, nay, will not respond to this command. This latest class is aimed at teaching him that a) people are nice b) he can’t always get what he wants and c) other dogs are not as patient as his cat brother and will destroy him for his lack of canine manners.  So far it’s going well as he’s not the worst behaved dog there. He’s the second worst.

This weekend will be the first time we’ve left our littlest crew member overnight. Not just overnight, but for TWO nights. The overprotective dog mom in me finds this prospect slightly horrifying, but the logical responsible pet owner knows it had to happen sometime and he won’t actually die without us. Our pampered pup is much too spoiled to go to a kennel, so he’ll be having an in-home puppy-sitter (AKA my most delightful dog loving friend and future bridesmaid) come stay with him. Whenever she comes over he immediately forgets I exist and spends the entire duration of her visit following her, sitting on her, and trying to find ways to get his small self even closer to her. Therefore I’m sure he’ll be fine… right?!

Chesney Haircut
Spring haircut! 🙂

Chesney has been in our lives for eight crazy months now, and we have actually forgotten what it was like to not see his silly little face every day. There have been challenges, there have been moments of frustration and moments of triumph. There was that one time he nearly gave the neighborhood dachshund heart-failure by screaming at him. That worked so well he graduated to screaming at our human neighbors to the same effect. And the time he ate a frozen turd of unknown origin. The time he got so excited for no reason that he fell over. The way he waits patiently for my better half to get out of the shower so he can lick said human’s toes. And how he gives a look that expresses his eternal sadness when his offering of toe licks is not met with delight on the part of the recipient. That time he redecorated our living room to look like a herd of deranged preschoolers stampeded through it. While we wouldn’t be heartbroken if he abandoned one or two behaviors (mostly just the screaming)….as a whole we find his quirks quite enchanting and secretly I hope he continues to be the little hellion we all know and love forever. Because for all his kookiness, this tiny creature’s entire mission (should he chose to accept it) is to be with us. While we might have to make some adjustments to fit him into our busy lives, his entire little life revolves around us. And chasing the cat. And occasionally eating some dirt.  I appreciate the midnight trips to the grassy patch because he didn’t have to go at bedtime, chewed up socks strewn about like wounded soldiers after the most epic of laundry battles, and leaving nearly every function early cause Chesney probably has to pee, is beginning to think we’ve abandoned him forever, and needs his homemade grain-free preservative-free super healthy kibble delivered to his bowl. Because all these things mean I get a little wiggle monster crawling on my face every the morning because he’s just so happy to see me, a tiny dancing bear in my kitchen trying to garner my attention while I make dinner so we can dance to Don Williams together and make daddy laugh at our ridiculousness, and a concerned furry face watching my every move to make sure I don’t stray too far from the pack and leave my little family behind. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mom and Chesney
Chesney is not a fan of selfies.

That’s it for this time digital folks! Thanks for reading and check back for a pup-date soon!

 

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