Puppies, Passwords and Parking - Part 3 of 3

Written by Eileen Wacker

When I return home, our new adorable little puppy morphs into destructo-puppy, when I open the crate. He scampers up the stairs looking like a clumsy rabbit. He pushes through the railing openings, intending to jump down a story. I yell, “stop puppy!” He chews my child’s dirty sock and the chair legs. He even chews the carpet. He bites my feet and barks at me for attention. It’s puppy pandemonium and he is still not house-trained. I put him back in the crate and set off. The kids have three piano lessons, two tennis lessons, one basketball clinic and a tutor. My son ripped another sneaker so I have to replace those. My daughter gets in the car and rants about how terrible clowns are for almost five minutes.  I don’t dare ask how the clowns came up. Instead, I check to see if my ears are bleeding.

I clear the dining room table for homework. My son feels that homework somehow violates his rights and he does not want to spend any more time on it. Everyone wants to play with the new puppy and we still have to vote on his name. The puppy is completely wild, excited to see the kids. He has an accident on my dining room rug. I grab him, push his nose in it, and say, “This is not for puppies. NO!” Then I bring him to his puppy pad and put him on it. My daughter rushes over, picks him up, and says, “Stop being mean to the puppy. Let’s name him Bear.”

It’s six o’clock. The caller ID is my husband. He asks, “Hey Sweetie! What did you do today?” I smile into the phone, not really having any answer. “Nothing much.”

Click here to re-visit Part 2 of Puppies, Passwords and Parking

Click here to re-visit Part 1 of Puppies, Passwords and Parking