That Traitor SOB
It all started a few years ago when I met a French Bulldog and fell in love with the breed. I was determined that some how, some way, I would have a Frenchie of my own. His name would be Abner and he would be fawn color with a black mask. He would never pee in the house, observe all rules and of course, like me the best.
This obsession with wanting a puppy quickly went from looking at cute pictures of puppies to I MUST HAVE A PUPPY NOW! Kind of like Veruca Salt when she demands one of those adorable squirrels.
Flash forward a few weeks and I have chosen a puppy and am now officially obsessed; but I have to act fast, really fast. The breeder is literally telling me that if I don’t decide within the next hour I may not get MY puppy and more than likely the world will end. Only problem was that I was not exactly ready.
I lived in a place where I could not have a dog, and while I was already planning on moving, I was not planning on it being so soon. Also, there was Lilly, Ryan’s dog and world class puppy hater. Not a problem at that exact moment, but because I did intended on living with Ryan and Lilly in the future it could be. Another small detail, frenchies are expensive. So expensive that I roll my eyes at myself for paying the kind of money I did for a dog that smells like shit and could drop dead at any moment from a bee sting, drowning, overheating or putting his wet nose on the stainless steel fridge ONE MORE TIME! Then, I’d have to kill him!
Anyway, the first problem was solved by moving and the second was solved by my wonderful mother loaning me the money with absolutely no ulterior motives like, oh lets just say, PUPPY BREATH! I totally have not paid her back yet, but I do let her smell Abner’s breath whenever she wants. Love you mom! Only hurdle left was talking it over with Ryan. It went a little something like this.
Me: Babe, what do you think about me getting a puppy?
Ryan: Well, you have wanted one for a long time. I think if you have thought it through and are ready then we can discuss is further and you could probably get a puppy.
Me: OK, sounds good. I’ll think about it and call you back.
…about 10 minutes and 4 emails to the breeder later…
Me: I am getting the puppy! I already put a deposit down.
Ryan: Wow, that was really fast thinking.
Me: I have been thinking about getting this puppy for YEARS!
The next 8 weeks flew by and before I knew it I was getting on a plane to San Diego to get my puppy. I had read a few books in preparation and learned that puppies often cry when they leave their litter mates and I was to give him ample time to adjust. Apparently Abner did NOT read this book. I picked him up and he never looked back. He sat in the car taking it all in, rode up the elevator to my friend’s house and walked straight up to their dog and jumped in his face. He then proceeded to smell every item in their house, pee on the floor and continue looking for trouble and ignoring me. Not much has changed.
When I finally brought him home I was expecting his curiosity to fade and a sweet, cuddly puppy to emerge. I am still waiting. We all know how dogs are supposed to react to their owner coming home after a long day. They are supposed to abandon whatever they are doing and run to us, look at us as though they thought we would never return, jump up and shower us with love. Well, Abner didn’t read that book either. He also failed to read about how he is supposed to listen to the person who feeds him, love the person who wakes up at night to let him pee, and shower the person who cleans up his barf at 4am and nose hair singeing shit with LOVE!
Now I am not saying he is completely void of emotion and doesn’t like me. He does put his giant bunny ears back and fold in half with glee when I come home and he even sometimes gives me a kiss. No, what I am trying to say is that he is giant traitor who LIKES HIS DAD MORE!
How did this happen? I was the one who for 3 months woke up every two hours to let him out. I was the one who narrowly saved his live when he went into anaphylactic shock. I was the one who taught him to walk on a leash; crate trained his whiney ass, took him to puppy school, trimmed his toenails, brushed his teeth, and fed him 3 perfectly portioned meals a day! This is complete bull shit…I AM THE MOM! And all I want is for him to sit on my lap or curl up next to me on the couch and all I see is THIS!
AND THIS…
AND THIS…
NOT TO MENTION, THIS...
Why not put a knife through my heart dog!?
Now I am not saying that Ryan isn’t deserving of all the love he gets from animals. He has that perfect balance of best friend and boss. But what am I, chopped liver? No. If I was chopped liver our dogs would probably want to sit with me and watch Family Guy at night.
It wasn’t enough for him that Lilly is completely obsessed or that Georgia comes out of hiding when she so much as hears his car pull up, NO...he has to be loved by MY dog too. Who does he think he is, SNOW WHITE? I’m going to come home one day and he is going to have blue birds making the bed and little bunnies folding laundry.
I imagine this is what it feels like for fathers who tirelessly coach their sons. Attend hundreds of practices and games. Forego personal time to play catch. Help with college applications. Nervously watch their sons play while being scouted. Loose sleep over weather or not their son will make the draft. All to have their son make the winning touch down and say… HI MOM!
This obsession with wanting a puppy quickly went from looking at cute pictures of puppies to I MUST HAVE A PUPPY NOW! Kind of like Veruca Salt when she demands one of those adorable squirrels.
Flash forward a few weeks and I have chosen a puppy and am now officially obsessed; but I have to act fast, really fast. The breeder is literally telling me that if I don’t decide within the next hour I may not get MY puppy and more than likely the world will end. Only problem was that I was not exactly ready.
I lived in a place where I could not have a dog, and while I was already planning on moving, I was not planning on it being so soon. Also, there was Lilly, Ryan’s dog and world class puppy hater. Not a problem at that exact moment, but because I did intended on living with Ryan and Lilly in the future it could be. Another small detail, frenchies are expensive. So expensive that I roll my eyes at myself for paying the kind of money I did for a dog that smells like shit and could drop dead at any moment from a bee sting, drowning, overheating or putting his wet nose on the stainless steel fridge ONE MORE TIME! Then, I’d have to kill him!
Anyway, the first problem was solved by moving and the second was solved by my wonderful mother loaning me the money with absolutely no ulterior motives like, oh lets just say, PUPPY BREATH! I totally have not paid her back yet, but I do let her smell Abner’s breath whenever she wants. Love you mom! Only hurdle left was talking it over with Ryan. It went a little something like this.
Me: Babe, what do you think about me getting a puppy?
Ryan: Well, you have wanted one for a long time. I think if you have thought it through and are ready then we can discuss is further and you could probably get a puppy.
Me: OK, sounds good. I’ll think about it and call you back.
…about 10 minutes and 4 emails to the breeder later…
Me: I am getting the puppy! I already put a deposit down.
Ryan: Wow, that was really fast thinking.
Me: I have been thinking about getting this puppy for YEARS!
The next 8 weeks flew by and before I knew it I was getting on a plane to San Diego to get my puppy. I had read a few books in preparation and learned that puppies often cry when they leave their litter mates and I was to give him ample time to adjust. Apparently Abner did NOT read this book. I picked him up and he never looked back. He sat in the car taking it all in, rode up the elevator to my friend’s house and walked straight up to their dog and jumped in his face. He then proceeded to smell every item in their house, pee on the floor and continue looking for trouble and ignoring me. Not much has changed.
When I finally brought him home I was expecting his curiosity to fade and a sweet, cuddly puppy to emerge. I am still waiting. We all know how dogs are supposed to react to their owner coming home after a long day. They are supposed to abandon whatever they are doing and run to us, look at us as though they thought we would never return, jump up and shower us with love. Well, Abner didn’t read that book either. He also failed to read about how he is supposed to listen to the person who feeds him, love the person who wakes up at night to let him pee, and shower the person who cleans up his barf at 4am and nose hair singeing shit with LOVE!
Now I am not saying he is completely void of emotion and doesn’t like me. He does put his giant bunny ears back and fold in half with glee when I come home and he even sometimes gives me a kiss. No, what I am trying to say is that he is giant traitor who LIKES HIS DAD MORE!
How did this happen? I was the one who for 3 months woke up every two hours to let him out. I was the one who narrowly saved his live when he went into anaphylactic shock. I was the one who taught him to walk on a leash; crate trained his whiney ass, took him to puppy school, trimmed his toenails, brushed his teeth, and fed him 3 perfectly portioned meals a day! This is complete bull shit…I AM THE MOM! And all I want is for him to sit on my lap or curl up next to me on the couch and all I see is THIS!
AND THIS…
AND THIS…
NOT TO MENTION, THIS...
Why not put a knife through my heart dog!?
Now I am not saying that Ryan isn’t deserving of all the love he gets from animals. He has that perfect balance of best friend and boss. But what am I, chopped liver? No. If I was chopped liver our dogs would probably want to sit with me and watch Family Guy at night.
It wasn’t enough for him that Lilly is completely obsessed or that Georgia comes out of hiding when she so much as hears his car pull up, NO...he has to be loved by MY dog too. Who does he think he is, SNOW WHITE? I’m going to come home one day and he is going to have blue birds making the bed and little bunnies folding laundry.
I imagine this is what it feels like for fathers who tirelessly coach their sons. Attend hundreds of practices and games. Forego personal time to play catch. Help with college applications. Nervously watch their sons play while being scouted. Loose sleep over weather or not their son will make the draft. All to have their son make the winning touch down and say… HI MOM!
Ryan seems to do a lot of sleeping on the sofa. Maybe that's your problem. Think about spending more time just laying around.
ReplyDelete2 Things: 1)Nathan is just like Ryan. I honestly believe that there are some people that all animals just flock to. He never has to try to hard to get any animals attention. Including a camel...yeah he petted one with ease.
ReplyDelete2)Thought ya didn't like Abriviations? :P *Kinda sad how I am keeping up*