It feels like forever since I’ve said hello to you guys! And that’s my fault. Well, maybe not entirely.
When we planned on adding another puppy to the family, we expected precisely that — a puppy. Instead, we’ve ended up with a tiny terror. An itty bitty 6-pound gremlin who growls at us stays up half the night and runs away with anything that’s not nailed down to the floor.
Our older dog, Minnie, is finding it challenging too. She not only fights for our attention (which she gets PLENTY of, the little stinker), but she also has to make sure August is borked at, nosed, bumped into, and chased away at strict intervals.
The kids are thrilled with him, of course. They think he’s marvelous. That’s probably because they aren’t up at 3 am singing long-forgotten lullabies while he awoos mournfully from inside his crate.
As Raghav and I down endless cups of coffee, our reflections in the kitchen window make for a sorry sight. We look like shell-shocked hostages, well into our third year of being held in a damp basement. My face is 90% eye bags, and I’m sure I’m deaf in one ear from all the borking.
But my goodness, the cuteness! The absolute heart-melting cuteness!! The darling puppy yawns and the softer-than-cotton-candy fur. His big eyes, that happy tail, and stumpy paws with grinchy toes. He is beautiful and bouncy and everything I ever wanted.
As I scratched his belly this morning, his little paw twitched about in pleasure. My heart thrummed, and I realized how perfectly content I was right then. Sitting on the warm kitchen floor in my PJs and smiling like an idiot at this darling puppy.
A second later, he bit my finger, and I realized a second, more important thing – love can be very painful.