Meet Princess Peach

Thursday:

Down to the Humane Society to pick up a turtle. I get this message from Mr Smith… which registers as a green light for dog ownership.

This has been building for about a year, and there are a couple kids here who are extremely excited about it.

Cute turtles at the Humane Society, but no doggies who would be happy in our family, sadly, so we head back for home — stopping to get turtle food on the way.

Me: Turtle food. Petco or Petstore-at-the-mall? Hm.

Still small voice: Mall.

Me: Oh, hi! Mall it is then… but… with all 6 kids, really? The last time I did that, didn’t I swear up and down I wouldn’t do it again ever under any circumstances??

Still small voice: Mall.

Me: Okay, I trust you, that has a great vibe about it, this’ll be good!

At the mall,

We went in for turtle food and came out more than an hour later with turtle food…

and a receipt for the puppy that we couldn’t take home ’til Saturday.

The kids were absolutely dumb-founded that I actually bought it.

I was dumb-founded that they were all so perfectly well behaved the entire time.

And maybe also a little dumb-founded about the puppy purchase, but it was surprising that I was so clear-headed and NOT-surprised about the whole thing. It unfolded just like it was supposed to. This is my… our… okay, no, it’s totally my dog. I’ve waited for her my whole life. Always loved little dogs. This little silky-terrier/shih-tzu mix here is just so sweet.

God put me right there at the store before they even brought those puppies out on display, so I could buy her 2 lbs of perfection before anyone else had the chance. The price was an irrelevant tiny little “meh, oh well,” blip on my radar that I promptly acknowledged and dismissed. Between me and the 13yo, she even had a name before we got back to the car.

Princess Peach

Mr Smith, bless him, was unavailable for consultation during that whole transaction there at the mall, so he was a bit dumb-founded at the number on that receipt later that night.

*DO NOT DO THAT TO YOUR SPOUSES, PEOPLE. THEY ARE (probably) NOT AS AWESOME AS MR. SMITH IS!*

Let’s just say, we’re sticking a bow on her head for my birthday, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Anniversary, and Christmas every year ’til 2030. Maybe the kids’ birthdays’ too…. 

But, hey, all the qualifications he outlined were met.

• It’s a dog.
• I loved it.
• Mommy instinct says now’s the time and this is the one.
• The kids love it.
  You’d have to have a heart of stone or a phobia of cuteness to NOT love it.
• The kids will take care of it
  — and hopefully not hurt it. They’re kids and they’ll need training, but they’ll do it.

Next time I’m sure he’ll add, “And as long as it’s free.” 😉

I’ll never forget how he rolled with it, though. He pretty much can’t ever be in the doghouse again, pun intended. It was flat-out impressive how he humbly, desperately tried to wrap his logical mind around it.

“Maybe I’m missing something. Is there something special about this dog that makes her different from all the many -whimper- FREE PUPPIES in the world?”
Well, yeah. Of course. They aren’t her!

Friday:

The kids were so excited all day. This was me and H walking down to get the puppy food we found someone conveniently selling nearby. My selfie-videos skillz are twice as awful as my selfie-photograph skillz, but it’s still adorable.

Saturday:

Ohhhhhh, man, it was like Christmas morning times ten. But Mr Smith and I went down by ourselves, we’re so mean.

I really want to write more. I do. There’s so much about this whole thing that would make fabulous blog food. But you guys. This is pretty much me now with my new “baby.”

That clip never loses it’s funny-ness… “…and I sleep need. Also the battery is dead. Also this phone is a potato. Put it on the charger.”

bwahahahahahaha…

It’s getting better and better every night, and thankfully we don’t have any neighbors rocking out and waking up the “baby” – but I am *not* going to let her cry it out so don’t go there, okay. At least, not yet. She’s been a fantastic little puppy and she goes back to sleep. She just wants to know I’m there. She piddles on her little piddle pad, whines at her gate, I hug her and whisper it’s okay, enjoying the time where I can snuggle her without a million kids to moderate, put her back in her cosy little bed, and she goes to sleep.

But, oh, my sleepy brain. I. Am. So. Spacey. Complete sentences? What are those again? I’m not used to getting up 3 or 4 or 5 or 6 times a night! Whaaaaaaat???? This whole transition has a lot in common with the newborn thing, and sleep deprivation is the big one.

For the record, babies are way better.

The 13yo doesn’t believe me, but it’s true. New babies = infinitely more lovable than new puppies. Puppy love is magical and precious and amazing, but there’s just NO comparison. For reals. It is in no way even remotely the same level of joy….

But, while we’re making comparisons even though there aren’t any, look at how much there is in common:

• This puppy is SO cute. We just look at her all day. Very similar.
• Everybody loves her. Again, similar.
• When she’s awake, if she’s out of her “crib” she needs constant supervision. 100% of my attention.
• She fits in a baby carrier. See?

• She’s fragile and my main goal in life is to make sure nobody hurts her.
• When she takes her naps — hallelujah! Then I can get something done. Sort of.
• Who are we kidding? All the extras get tossed out the window. Nothing gets done.
• The formerly-youngest child has to get used to someone new in the “baby” position. (SOOOO good for little Miss H! Wow. Poor kid, though. Big transition for her.)
  

• Random pictures from small children now feature the new addition.

There are some big differences:

• Piddle Pads instead of diapers.
• She has sharp teeth already.
• Dang, she’s a speedy little mover!
• Dog food is much easier than nursing.
• My body didn’t just get turned inside out.

CONS: Um, yeah. No downsides. It’s a puppy and we love it.

I am pretty much allowed to have ZERO complaints here, because Princess potty trained on her first full day here.

It was divine intervention.

I accidentally pulled a stunt that is probably a page out of the book “potty training hacks from professional puppy trainers” thing, and it worked.

Asked the pet store owner for some of
the shredded-paper-things that she’d been laying in there in that display case.
Just so, you know, she could have something that smelled like her siblings.
So she wouldn’t be as lonely the first little bit.
Put some in her kennel, thinking she’d snuggle right into them…
and instead of doing that, she totally did her “business” there. Immediately.
Lightbulb moment!
Hm. Put a few of them on that “piddle pad” thing. Same result.
POOF! She goes there. Every time. We’ve had like… um… seriously, maaaaaybe one accident every day, and once was on something dirty that needed washing anyway so it hardly counts. She holds her cute little bladder and will walk over there from across the room all on her own, BLESS HER BEAUTIFUL LITTLE PUPPY HEART, she is the perfect dog!

I’d heard how difficult it is to potty train little dogs, but wow. HAPPY DAY, man, I’ll take it. This is basically a fantastic miracle, and I’m so deeply grateful and giving all the credit so much to heaven that I haven’t even thought to make some sarcastic witty comment to Mr Smith about how -see?- expensive puppies are clearly worth it. DUDE. That’s how tired I am.

So yeah!

Here we are! I may be sporting the “I slept half-the-night on the couch so I could be closer to the dog” look for the next 2 weeks, but I don’t even care,

because dang, this is a happy thing for us.

(Also, it’s Hawaii, and nobody cares about what you look like anyway.)