I don’t want a puppy for Christmas. I’ll take a bone, a toy, a bag of biscuits, or even just a rock, but please, no puppy.
Have you ever been having a normal, good kind of day when something happens that turns it upside down? Well, that’s what happened to me last Fur-iday afternoon. Nollind went off to town on a couple of errands and came home with this …
Traitors! I can hear you from here … “aaawww, he’s adorable.” Am I right? Thought so.
I’m used to dogs coming to visit but they always come with their people, other people, not my people. So you can imagine my concern at this little devil (and I don’t mean that in the aawww-he’s-adorable kind of way) showing up with one of my people in our car!
I’m a very congenial kind of guy when it comes to other dogs. I’ve only ever once gotten in a fight and that was just to defend myself, and I rarely growl even when I’ve got some intact male slobbering all over me and grabbing me by the back end. For this reason, and the fact that I generally like small dogs, T and Nollind thought I might enjoy having a youngster around for a couple of days. They were very wrong. A puppy is not a small dog. A puppy is a baby dog.
I’m sure Bailey will be a fine dog one day. But that day was not Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. On those days he was a puppy … a bouncy, biting, barking, ball of fur that didn’t sleep nearly enough.
He even came on my walks! Can you believe it? My walks, my time, with my people. Thankfully, he could only make it about half the way before Nollind turned around and took him home. I at least had that time to myself.
By Sunday, after 48 hours of growling, snarling, and barking at him in response to his efforts, he seemed to finally be getting the message that I didn’t want to play with him. But that didn’t stop him from pouncing on my head while I was sleeping. Grrrr….
It was a happy moment when D arrived to collect his puppy. His puppy! Imagine my delight. My people weren’t pulling the wool over my eyes, or breaking me in gently. He really and truly did belong to someone else. And he went home that very evening.
I thoroughly enjoyed my seven years of being a second dog alongside Logan, but I’ve grown accustomed to being an only dog, and I think it suits me. So, if you happen to be chatting with T or Nollind at any point, maybe just remind them …
I DON’T WANT A PUPPY FOR CHRISTMAS!