Last week my parents bought a puppy. An adorable, fifteen week old miniature schnauzer that, after a day or two and the testing of a few possibilities, they named Buddy.
Meet Buddy.
Since I'm just hanging out during the day, waiting (im)patiently for an email from the British Consulate, I've been taking care of him. It was easy at first and I thought my parents may have picked an absolute dream puppy...then he got comfortable. That said, we've had some pretty tough times. Yesterday may have been the worst. Mom and Dad left for Chicago for a wedding but they got to see him act like a true puppy just before they left. Between the biting, the barking (at the empty basement stairs because my cats will no longer come to the top [there's a baby gate - there are LOTS of baby gates]), having to chase him in the pouring rain and the getting in to everything, he actually drove me to tears. More than once.
In the time it took me to write that paragraph, I had to trade him his Kong Bone (best toy ever) for something he shouldn't have - twice.
The afternoon paid off, though. We sat outside and watched the clouds.
I read a book.
He ate the most he'd eaten all day.
It only lasted about a half hour but it was nice.
He has made the waiting a little easier. If it weren't for him I'd be even more bored than I have been for the last week. Yesterday I actually picked up some thread and needles and such so that I could play around with a little embroidery because it's much easier to put down than knitting when Buddy grabs one of my mom's suffed Boyd's Bears and starts chewing on it.
Except for his hours of Extreme Puppyness, we get along really well. He hasn't had any accidents and I taught him how to sit the other day. Now if I could just teach him "drop it"....
