By Lisa Scottoline
Week one of new puppy Eve is over.
It’s been a very busy seven days.
With a very long list of Things to Do, like:
Cuddle.
Hug.
Feed.
Cuddle.
Kiss.
Cuddle.
Feed.
Cuddle.
Feed.
Sleep.
Pee and poop.
Feed.
Cuddle again.
I had forgotten how 24/7 a new puppy could be, and ain’t it great?
All the other things I should be doing haven’t gotten done yet.
Like, take a shower.
Or buy holiday gifts.
Or do my actual job.
And you know what?
It will wait.
Welcome to my new attitude.
I’m not sure if it’s perspective.
Or dereliction of duty
I know I’ll get to everything else, in time.
But before then, I have to cuddle something small, warm, soft, and furry.
Eve is ridiculously cute and adorable, and I can’t tear myself away from her.
I hang with her in her ex-pen, where we take naps together.
If you’re not familiar with an ex-pen, it’s where you put your ex-husband.
Just kidding.
Or maybe fantasizing.
An ex-pen is something that a genius friend of mine recommended, so the new puppy could have a place that was all her own in a house dominated by Boone and Kit, who have lived here for twelve years and like things to stay the same.
As in, we didn’t need a sibling, so why did you get us one?
I was worried they would be less than welcoming, if not murderous.
So I set up a large ex-pen in the kitchen and the family room, where Eve can hang out with her toys.
It’s like a dog playpen.
Or protective custody.
But in the good news category, Boone and Kit are taking her appearance surprisingly well.
So even that is going better than expected!
Meanwhile I’ve had a week of furry bliss and puppy breath.
Although I’m getting nothing done, I’m adding years to my life from endorphins bubbling in my veins.
Or wherever endorphins bubble.
If they bubble.
At this point, the only holiday shopping I’ve done is to buy dog toys, so Eve has approximately twenty, most of which squeak, rattle, and roll when I throw them to her. She would play all day, if she got her way.
Basically, she gets her way.
Sometimes we play fetch, which means that I throw the ball and then I go fetch it.
We go outside 45 times a day and three times a night, but I don’t mind. At my age and hers, we’re both fighting urinary incontinence.
The only downside is that her favorite chew toy is me.
She likes to bite my clothes, hands, arms, and basically any part of me that she can reach, flying across the ex-pen like the killer bunny in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It’s pretty funny but I know it’s not great behavior.
In this mode, she’s not Eve, she’s Evil.
My dog training books say that I can’t let her bite me and I have to start saying no.
I hate No.
I love Yes.
But I’m going to give it a try today.
Maybe.
Copyright © Lisa Scottoline 2024