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ktjrdn at yahoo dot com

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Thursday, 13 April 2006
In which I gloat with no shame...
We don't have a puppy anymore. I'm so happy. Rob is not so much. I can't be demonstratively happy about it at home, so I come here - to the internet - so say this.. Yippee! Yahoo! I'm doing the happy dance, you'll just have to use your imagination.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm an animal person. More of a cat person than a dog person, but I love animals. I think kids deserve to have pets. The only problem is that Ally is not old enough for a puppy. She's not old enough for any animal. THat means the animal is mine (not Rob's, because he's done every 3rd day). I didn't want a puppy. Let me refresh your memory. It seemed like it was going to work out. That was for a couple days. Then all hell broke loose. I had a horrible terrible week. It seemed like everytime I opened my mouth, I was yelling at ALly or the dog, and was constantly picking things up so she wouldn't chew on them. Some of it was my hormones, but some of it was just that having a puppy around (and we found out she was even younger than we had thought) was just adding to my already overwhelming (to me - maybe not anyone else...) stress levels.

Rob and I talked about it, and he convinced me to give it some time, and let him train her a little. I still had many reservations, but agreed. For one thing, the dog chewed on everything! How was I going to have an infant in the house when I couldn't even set her down anywhere but the crib? They need time to play on the floor. They need to be able to have toys around. I need to be able to put her in her swing for f seconds occasionally. Unfortunately, the swing sits on the floor, and I was afraid to put it together because the dog would chew on it. For another, the dog overstimulated Ally. A two year old just can't handle that much attention without going crazy and dragging everyone else with her. At least not in my house.

The other day Rob must have gotten tired of my endless bitching. He was doing the dishes, and the dog was bothering Ally, and I refused to intervene. He got pissed, and decided to give Sandy back to the lady that he got her from. Hallelujah!!

I won! I never win. Rob always logicaly shoots down every one of my arguments. I have no idea what happened, and I don't care. I'm thrilled. Here's a list of things that I no longer have to do:
  • close the gate to the stairs all the time so Sandy doesn't go downstairs and eat anything
  • tell Ally to pick up her toys or Sandy will eat them
  • tell Ally that she can't sit at her picnic table because Sandy can reach her food there and will eat it
  • look around the room every 5 minutes to see if there's anything that inadvertantly got left on the floor where Sandy could eat it.
  • spend the first 5 minutes upon returning home to pick up the things that Sandy has destroyed while we were gone.
  • worry about oh so many things
  • smell like dog
  • yell at Ally not to lay on the dog
  • get the dog off the kitchen table

    Here's the damage:
  • All three of our kitchen chairs (admittadly not family heirlooms or anything like that) have been chewed up.
  • countless papers that Ally has colored on and left on her desk have been destryoed.
  • Ally's potty seat has had to be sanded down because the dog chewed on it making it all scratchy.
  • many of our bushes we bought last year have no wood remaining above ground. Hopefully they will grow back anyway?
  • the support poles for Ally's play house have been chewed.
  • One book has had to be replaced, and others have been chewed
  • Much laundry (mostly socks) has required re-washing. The dog liked to grab it and take it outside to chew on it.

    I figure we got off lucky. I wasn't ready for a puppy.

    Rob wasn't so thrilled. I have had to be very quiet about my gloating. In fact, I can't really say anything. I get ready to - oh just about anything, but here's one example - go to bed, and I think, "Oh, I don't have to find the remote because Sandy isn't going to eat it" or "Ah, Ally's shoes can stay on the floor. Sandy won't eat them."

    PS. I wrote this post once before, but Tripod ate it. It was a lot more gloating, but time has worn away a tiny bit of the victory. But, I WON! No more dog!

    Posted by ktjrdn at 10:58 CDT
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