Yes all, Choreboy finally noticed the cold-blooded uprising taking place in our house after the number of snakes hit five (and after he saw my list of "Snakes Amanda Also Wants" which would add, uhm, 3 more? *ducking*). So everyone, without further ado, may I please introduce Charlie.
|Here he is! The strategically placed heart is necessary because my husband apparently loves seeing my cleavage over-exposed and figures the rest of the world feels the same way. I disagree. You're welcome.|
Charlie is a 10 week old "chug", i.e., chihuahua/ pug mix. He's a blast, and is doing his best to ingratiate himself with Teddy, aka Hound, our 5 year old chorkie (chihuahua/ yorkie mix).
Yes, we have thematic animals. No, it wasn't deliberate. But we were getting some accoutrements for the baby boa constrictor's habitat and I let Brent out of my sight to go get a shopping basket. The man is usually perfectly safe to let loose in a pet store; he's a rational adult and is more than well aware of the cost, maintenance, and responsibility generated by additional animals, especially those of the canine persuasion.
So imagine my surprise when he came bounding up, cart in hand, and said "Come on, baby! You have got to see this cute little dog!!"
We walked over (Choreboy was actually still kind of "bounding" -- very Tigger-like) and there in one of the puppy pens was Charlie. One of the opportunistically observant employees came over and asked if we'd like the pen opened so we could hold him. Rather than just say "No, no, he's just so cute," or words to that effect, my besotted husband answered "Yes!!"
I swear to you I heard both exclamation points.
Brent picked him up, and Charlie (ingratiating little bugger that he is) licked him on the face. From that moment on, the formerly sane man I married thought it would be an excellent idea for animal #14 to be a dog.
Not a snake. Oh no, not a lovely "set-it-and-forget-it" pet. A dog. A full-bore, yapping, piddling, pooping, toe-chewing house-training-required little dog.
With an underbite.
In case I haven't mentioned it recently, my husband is a freaking saint. He handles my menopausal moodiness with barely a twitch. He has stepped into the void in my children's lives. He puts up with -- and even on some level likes -- our cats even though he's horrifically allergic to them. He has already taken over most of Hound's care, and even steps in with the snakes when they're being difficult on feeding day (they eat frozen/thawed rodents and there are days when they don't totally approve of our offerings -- they'd prefer something with a bit more... erm... "wiggle"). And for him to want to bring another pet into our house? It had to be something special.
We left the pet store, and Brent couldn't stop talking about the puppy. We talked about it some more. We agreed we are both clearly insane (in spite of my hesitation, you can tell by the picture that I'm pretty gone on the little guy as well). We called my parents whose input was necessary because they provide "Doggie Daycare" for Teddy on the days Brent and I are both working, and this would place an additional burden on them. They agreed. Mom was even sounding pretty excited :)
Then we called the pet store to put a hold on Charlie, got in the truck, and rode over.
It's a good thing we put that hold on him, because the guys at the pet store said not five minutes after we'd called that not one but two other folks came in wanting to buy our pup! One of them was even playing with him when we walked in.
In the end, we walked out with our baby dog and another couple who'd first been scoping out Charlie walked out with his bigger sister. He did well enough his first night in our home, although Brent ended up having to put Charlie's crate up on his bed so he'd would stop crying.
[The puppy was crying, not Brent. Although if he has many more 2:00 AM wakeup calls... well, let's just say that I've seen my husband in a sleep-deprived state and it isn't pretty.]
Teddy is still working out how he feels about his unexpected little brother. He wants to play with him, but he'd also like for him to leave. Now, please. We're watching closely.
Somehow I don't think Charlie's going anywhere. Sorry Teddy :)