So…we got a dog. My husband finally gave in to the pressure. I think he secretly really wanted a dog though because he gave in pretty quickly once it was three against one and we pleaded and begged and did thorough research on breeds and sent him pictures of cute dogs needing forever homes and finally, agreed to clean up the poop.
Actually, I think what finally did it is that we found the right dog for our family. We adopted a rescued Jack Russell/Lab mix and he’s not a puppy. I know this seems like a contradiction since all Jack Russells seem to be in perpetual puppyhood, but the Lab mellows him out. This requires us to make a grand leap of faith since we were told of his mixed heritage, but feel pretty sure that those who made these claims were not actually there to witness the moment of his creation. He’s sweet and energetic, but he’s just as content to sit in your lap or snooze next to you on the couch. He was a stray (or so the rescue group was told) and was one day away from his demise when the rescue group got him. He needs training, but this dog is adorable and smart and clearly meant to be a part of our family.
Lest it not slip past: I did it! I made a commitment that will FAR surpass 12 weeks!
My daughter told the dog’s foster that one of the reasons we wanted to get a dog was so that I would take more walks, because I’m staying at home now and spend all my time on the couch eating bon bons. Nice. Maybe I should have thought twice about making that joke in her presence. But ultimately, we were determined to be worthy. And to be honest, I do need to walk more.
He’s adjusted quickly and by that, I mean that he didn’t pee in the house, didn’t wake us up in the middle of the night to go outside to pee, and followed me around like a furry shadow until he had to go outside to pee. I think rescued dogs are just grateful to have someone not be cruel to them that they have very few needs to be happy.
Then…we broke him. He somehow managed to get a toenail caught on something and tore it badly enough it had to be removed…by the vet. Apparently, we’re told, it’s pretty common. It’s super painful (imagine pulling your fingernail off) and at risk of infection – so on day 5 with us, we get to see how he does taking pills.
Nonetheless, we’re happy that Ziggy is with us and look forward to many years of fun and adventure (and hopefully very few large vet bills).