“When a man’s best friend is his dog, that dog has a problem.”–Edward Abbey
Lexington has been a barking nightmare the last week or so, howling at the moon whenever he can. When I asked “what’s wrong buddy?” he told me he was upset that Winnie got a blog post from Mom and he got nothing. Then he told me to shove it. To be fair, he says a lot of mean things to me…our relationship has always been one built on tough love.
You see, the problem is that he was brought into our family under false pretenses. Mom wanted to give Charlie a baby brother, so she made the visits to Baby Lex and built the strong connection between mother and son. On the car ride home he learned how exquisite air conditioning could be, licking the artificial breeze whenever he could. He learned about the warmth of mom’s lap….and the safety and security of her love and devotion. Then he gets home, and meets his big brother for the first time. And he looks just like him, this is amazing! They played for hours, just the three of them, the perfect trio to start a perfect life together. Then Dad came home.
Cue the screeching brakes sound. Who the heck is this guy? And why is he being so weird? The truth is Lexi, you’re the first puppy I’ve ever had. Charlie and Mom came into my life as a pair, and the only other dog I had growing up was an adult when we got her. So to see a small little bundle of life, that I was now responsible for turning into a well-behaved gentleman was….well…..overwhelming. I had to learn EVERYTHING. So when I picked you up for the first time, of course I was nervous and scared. I didn’t want to drop you or hurt you….and I was used to cats all my life so I was half-expecting a good old fashioned claw rake across my arm.
But also, you didn’t make it easy on me! The middle of the night pee-walks were bad enough as is, but you sure liked to take your time to find justttttt the right spot, no matter how cold it was. I’d curse at you, you’d curse at me….it was a healthy dynamic. You may have been too young to remember, but one night we were out there in the cold for 30 minutes, and your Dad had a mini breakdown. Mom eventually went outside looking for us and found your father crying while muttering “please go potty” over and over again. Not my finest moment. And as it turned out, you went potty 30 minutes prior on our carpet. Who knew?! And now you’ve graduated from peeing on carpets to pooping on couches whenever you want to get a rise out of Dad. Well played son, well played.
So I get the hate buddy, your Dad was weird and apprehensive from Day 1. Not to mention I’m a constant disrupter/3rd wheel of the mother-son love fest. I would be cranky too if someone got in the way of my true love. But I want you to know that your Dad has come a long way, and that he’s so happy that you are a part of his life. And to prove it, here’s a blog post just for you! May you continue pooping on the couch for many years to come. Love you Pants–to the moon and back.