I bought my boys a puppy.
Yes, I can’t deny it; I’m crazy, a sucker, and a glutton for punishment.
But, apparently the boys asked Santa for a puppy, which of course Santa didn’t bring (because they neglected to tell anyone else). But, after the holidays, they made sure to tell everyone in the family, they didn’t get what they asked for.
So, I gave in, and we have an Australian Shepherd puppy of our very own. Darling, sweet and definitely naughty … all rolled up into one big fuzz-ball. That’s our boy. So far he’s added quite a bit of excitement and work to my daily routine. But I tell myself that his cuteness makes up for all of the things he gets into.
The boys named him Rex, after the sheepdog on Babe, and of course, short for T-Rex, the tyrant lizard king.
The other day my son asked me what Rex’s last name is. I said, “Well I guess he has our last name, so Turner.”
“So his name is Rex Delicious Turner?” he asked.
What? He’s a dog. He doesn’t have a middle name.
“But you call him Rex Delicious.”
I was wondering what he was talking about, when I realized he was quite right. I had started calling him (on occasion, mind you) Rexaliscious, because, he is in fact so cute.
Rex Delicious doesn’t roll of the tongue too well, so my husband shortened it to Rex D.
Now our dog has a first, middle, and last name. So I guess he’s officially part of the family now.
Two boys and a puppy (another boy — they like to keep me outnumbered) makes for quite the interesting combo.
The boys are always getting into trouble, and now, so is the pup.
I try to keep the three separated when I’m not around, but somehow they always find each other. Yes, and they all usually get put in time-out as a result.
The boys love the dog, and the dog loves them; in fact, he loves them so much he wants to eat them up … and tries to every chance he gets.
And the puppy literally will eat anything, so I try to watch him all the time. But I can’t say much, because the boys are about the same. I don’t know how many times I tell them not to eat stuff off of the floor (or under the couch cushions).
But, this past week, I’ve noticed the dog has been terribly sick. Not to go into too much detail, but if it wasn’t coming out one end, it was coming out the other. And I’ve been wondering what in the world is wrong with him. I know he likes to eat dirt, trash and anything he can get his paws on, but I haven’t given him a single treat, and I’ve tried my best to keep him away from everything.
The boys of course, knew nothing about it when I asked them.
But, finally, one night we came home to yet another explosion in the cage, and after I became quite upset, the boys made a confession to me. They hadn’t been quite truthful when they told me they hadn’t fed the dog anything.
“OK, so what did he eat?”
“Cereal … Goldfish … and candy hearts.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all he had today.”
All he had today. Great.
Mystery solved.
Between raising boys, and raising a pup, I’m still torn on who is harder to train.
But, hopefully, somewhere in between snacks, playtime, and timeouts, the three will grow up together.
I’m hoping in the end they will all learn something from one another. I want the boys to gain a sense of responsibility as they help with dog chores, and I hope the dog gains a sense of responsibility as well as he learns to be their friend, play with them, and protect them.
In a perfect world, this would all be easy to accomplish.
But, in the real world, it’s a work in progress.
But that’s how most good things in life are; they take time and dedication. Yes, and sometimes you have to do all the wrong things first, to learn what’s right.
But, apparently the boys asked Santa for a puppy, which of course Santa didn’t bring (because they neglected to tell anyone else). But, after the holidays, they made sure to tell everyone in the family, they didn’t get what they asked for.
So, I gave in, and we have an Australian Shepherd puppy of our very own. Darling, sweet and definitely naughty … all rolled up into one big fuzz-ball. That’s our boy. So far he’s added quite a bit of excitement and work to my daily routine. But I tell myself that his cuteness makes up for all of the things he gets into.
The boys named him Rex, after the sheepdog on Babe, and of course, short for T-Rex, the tyrant lizard king.
The other day my son asked me what Rex’s last name is. I said, “Well I guess he has our last name, so Turner.”
“So his name is Rex Delicious Turner?” he asked.
What? He’s a dog. He doesn’t have a middle name.
“But you call him Rex Delicious.”
I was wondering what he was talking about, when I realized he was quite right. I had started calling him (on occasion, mind you) Rexaliscious, because, he is in fact so cute.
Rex Delicious doesn’t roll of the tongue too well, so my husband shortened it to Rex D.
Now our dog has a first, middle, and last name. So I guess he’s officially part of the family now.
Two boys and a puppy (another boy — they like to keep me outnumbered) makes for quite the interesting combo.
The boys are always getting into trouble, and now, so is the pup.
I try to keep the three separated when I’m not around, but somehow they always find each other. Yes, and they all usually get put in time-out as a result.
The boys love the dog, and the dog loves them; in fact, he loves them so much he wants to eat them up … and tries to every chance he gets.
And the puppy literally will eat anything, so I try to watch him all the time. But I can’t say much, because the boys are about the same. I don’t know how many times I tell them not to eat stuff off of the floor (or under the couch cushions).
But, this past week, I’ve noticed the dog has been terribly sick. Not to go into too much detail, but if it wasn’t coming out one end, it was coming out the other. And I’ve been wondering what in the world is wrong with him. I know he likes to eat dirt, trash and anything he can get his paws on, but I haven’t given him a single treat, and I’ve tried my best to keep him away from everything.
The boys of course, knew nothing about it when I asked them.
But, finally, one night we came home to yet another explosion in the cage, and after I became quite upset, the boys made a confession to me. They hadn’t been quite truthful when they told me they hadn’t fed the dog anything.
“OK, so what did he eat?”
“Cereal … Goldfish … and candy hearts.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all he had today.”
All he had today. Great.
Mystery solved.
Between raising boys, and raising a pup, I’m still torn on who is harder to train.
But, hopefully, somewhere in between snacks, playtime, and timeouts, the three will grow up together.
I’m hoping in the end they will all learn something from one another. I want the boys to gain a sense of responsibility as they help with dog chores, and I hope the dog gains a sense of responsibility as well as he learns to be their friend, play with them, and protect them.
In a perfect world, this would all be easy to accomplish.
But, in the real world, it’s a work in progress.
But that’s how most good things in life are; they take time and dedication. Yes, and sometimes you have to do all the wrong things first, to learn what’s right.
