I tried re
I started that 12 hours ago but had to quit because puppies.
So to bring you up to speed, Stephy and her work family flew to New Orleans Tuesday (yes, on Mardi Gras) for some sort of conference. Medical related I’m sure and probably a bit over my head. Her family has two boys under the age of 3 which means I am deeply impressed by them because they have two teeny boys AND they are functioning human beings. I would make them an award but I also think they must be masochists because they just decided to get a puppy. I totally understand the sentiment, these boys will grow up with this dog and how flipping adorable is that? I can just see the photo shoots now… But still. Puppies, man. So anyways, they get this thing two days before they leave in part because I have agreed to care for her. Her name is Bessie by the way. Or Bess Bess if you prefer. So Tuesday to Saturday I am playing house to a baby dog.
She’s so cute. Just sweet as can be (when she’s not chewing on literally everything). But she’s worse than a baby. You have to constantly watch her. And it’s not like you can carry her around or put her in a pouch strapped to your tummy. (I mean, some people do, but those people are tools (sorry if you’re reading this and you do that but I think you’re a tool)). She doesn’t wear a diaper so you have to follow her everywhere, she chews on anything that looks appealing (which is everything), she gets into all the things she’s not supposed to and she almost never stops running. It’s not like I’m not taking care of her though, I should make that very clear. I feed her in the morning and add her pills. If she doesn’t eat them we try the ole peanut butter on a spoon trick (puppies love peanut butter), I try to take her out after every snack and lap of water, we run around the house mutiple times and we even have some cuddle time after dinner. Yesterday, I tried to leave work a few minutes early to beat traffic out of the garage so I could rush home to the little girl. Well wouldn’t you know it, I pull up to the key fob box to swipe my pass and all of the exits are broken. Literally all of them. So for about 5 minutes I sit and wait with a line of cars behind me for someone to manually let us out. I thought karma only happened when you do bad things…
Bess Bess hates being crated (what baby dog doesn’t?) which gives me way too many feels and by that I mean I lay in bed and cry silently, fighting the urge to go let her out and apologize a trillion times for ever putting her in jail. She also wakes up at 5:40am. Do you remember my previous blog posts? The ones where I lay in bed until about 8:10 and press snooze repeatedly? You can’t do that when a puppy is wailing and depending on you to take care of her. I was thinking about it when I was driving over to the house, but this is probably the most responsibility I’ve ever had at one time. Our dog, Max, their puppy and the three chickens they own. All of which depend on me to help keep them alive. That’s crazy! Oh and for the record, the chickens are my favorite. So self sufficient but still interested in you enough to make you interested in them. Don’t tell Steph but I think I may nix the children idea and just get us chickens. We can still give them our baby names. Is that weird? Oh, while I’m thinking about babies, I hear it’s popular for people to repeatedly ask newlyweds when they’re going to procreate. In case you were wondering, it will be a few years. Ok. Now that we’ve talked about the hippo in the room (that could be a thing, right?) let’s move on.
Steph being in Nola makes me uber jealous. I went once for Mardi Gras in college (calm down with your accusations. They’re not necessarily correct.) and had a blast. I mean, I got pick pocketed, but everything else was a blast! Guys, New Orleans is like this magical place where you can drink in the streets and there are daiquiris everywhere and they put alcohol in fish bowls. Also the residents of New Orleans hate people like me. I know there’s more to the city than drinking: it’s also very beautiful and full of such culture that truly fascinates me…but daiquiris are my thing. I asked her to bring me back a King Cake slice complete with the baby. Or a voodoo doll. Or a beignet. Or a $100 rugby shirt. But we’re planning this really big party in October so I think that last one will be shot down. I will pretend like I’m there by walking around the house with an open container of wine and lots of chunky necklaces that slightly resemble beads. I was going to post one of my fish bowl pictures but it’s really not too classy and I think the ole ball and chain would disapprove.
I’m tired of writing this one so the end.