I always thought I wouldn't get a puppy until I was retired. Too much work. Who wants to clean up pee all the time? And the chewing. I like my shoes. Turns out, the magical powers that puppies come with (see: hiccups, breath, etc) make you not care. Apparently it just takes a buddah belly and a piglet tail to get away with accidentally pooping in the kitchen. The only thing I would have changed is that house training in the summer would have been so much better. The only time I've almost lost my temper at Rue is her repeated need for potty breaks, grass eating, and stick biting, all during the cold, dark and rain. She clearly did not take after her brother, the prissy boy, who doesn't like to get his feet wet. And I am not amused with a frantic whining scrabble on the sliding door only to realize it was because she forgot her stick during the potty break 5 minutes prior.
But I digress. I have been pleasantly surprised. The only failures come when we mess up as her people. Rue is a joy and I love watching the dog that she is becoming. I only hope we can live up to the responsibility of being the ones to shape this puppy into the dog she will be for the rest of her life.
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