Yes, it's true. (*No, I am not pregnant. Come on, you lot!) I guess I never do anything in half measures. It's too late to change that now. What is that old adage? You can't teach an old dog new tricks? Speaking of which...
I have always wanted a dog. Like, always. For the most for of evers. In my first apartment they weren't allowed. So I got a cat, Guinness aka Ginny. Then she was lonely. So I got her a brother, Dante. And I learned to love cats. They are pretty awesome. But, um, sorry cats, you aren't dogs. When Ginny passed, we adopted Ruffle. Then Dante passed and she was it. The house wasn't empty. It also wasn't full.
Then we separated and I was alone with 3 kids. The dog became security and companionship. My cat tells me to fuck off on a regular basis. Why won't you let me loooooooove you?? A dog? They want to be loved. They will snuggle on the couch. They will play with children when I am too tired. They will bark like the dickens when they hear something I don't. (Please don't let that be squirrels. Please.) So the dog became a promise. To me. And the kids.
I keep my promises.
Meet Hamilton. We are now a family of 6. And if you're good at math, you're wondering why the hell I suck at it. Because 1 dog + 1 momma + 3 kids does NOT equal 6. I don't suck at math. I hate it. But I am annoyingly good at it. And we are a family of 6. My husband and I have reconciled. For months all I wanted to do was tell him to "come home". I made lists. I prayed. I talked to my therapist. I followed my gut which, as my therapist reminded me, is never wrong. Good or bad. I harnessed my super power, which is love. Lest you had forgotten. We are working on us, our marriage, our family. It is good work. Hard work. It is the hardest work I have ever done. It will, I believe, offer the greatest reward. It is a good story and of course this would be my story. But it is not today's story.
Today is about Hamilton and how our little family is complete. He snuggles. He loves. He barks (currently only at people when I am walking him). He is starting to be able to walk on a leash. He will do his business on command. He will even sit and wait at his food dish until I tell him go ahead. He has pee'd and pooped on our carpet. He destroyed a couple of his toys. He has tap danced in his poop in his crate. How does it get on the walls!?!?!? He's a puppy. He's our puppy. I don't want to say how long it has been since he has had an accident. I don't want to jinx it. But I am happy with the number.
So, welcome Hamilton, to the House of KB. We're a bit of a work in progress but we are not short on love. Or very clear expectations. Good boy!