Having a house full of puppies is like having several hundred toddlers pop in for a visit.
It’s loud. It’s messy. Things break. But gosh, they’re so darn cute. (Thank God they’re leaving.)
We are entering week three of the puppydom. Some of us are growing weary of the efforts. As veteran parents, we are accustomed to the work that comes with caring for toddlers. We even understand that sometimes a toddler might bite you. They can pee on the floor on occasion. They don’t take direction well. These are known facts accepted.
Even so, with all that cuteness, one still can become resentful. Shut up, I think, when I hear Chism holding forth. Sure, she’s barking at a butterfly or a cat wandering across the yard. Cute. Yes. But loud. And I’m trying to write, here.
A familiar, gnawing sound attracts my attention and I break records as I leap across my office, slam through the baby gate and scold Rollie for once again, attempting to eat my kitchen cabinets. There’s no way to put the cabinets out of reach, so Rollie is relegated to her crate. Poor Rollie. I toss her three tennis balls and a treat and get back to work.
Soon enough, the pitiful cries of Charm pull me from my work. She can only take so much of Chism and her endless need to play. “It’s nap time!” I tell Chism, but she only smiles and steals the toy I’ve just placed in Charm’s mouth. Like a toddler, she only wants that particular toy because Charm had it. She quickly loses interest and drops it, moving on to a through-the-crate battle with Rollie. Charm quietly picks up the toy and retires to the Frank bed. But moments later, Chism bored with the Rollie battle, launches herself on top of Charm, stealing the toy again and prancing across the kitchen, only to drop it and tackle Charm when she follows. She gets a good hold of Charm’s ear and….. Charm cries. I separate them and hand Charm a new toy. Chism steals it and round and round we go. Endless fun.
I have work to do, so I put Chism in the puppy palace and ignore her whines. Back to work. Twenty minutes later, I hear Rollie whine. She needs to go potty. Worse than changing a few diapers, I spend the next thirty minutes taking each of the puppies outside. All three are pretty quick to take care of their business, but I can’t resist a little playtime in the sunshine. Everyone needs their vitamin D and I could use a break. I find a sunny spot on the hillside, soaking up the sun and cuddling Charm. She’s my girl. (I might miss this toddler.)
Rollie would be happiest if I could just stay put under the magnolia with her and rub her belly the rest of the day.
Chism has little time for cuddling. So I take her for a lap around the outside of the pasture. Out of time, I return her to the kitchen even though she’s still pulling on the leash and I haven’t made a dent in her excess energy.
Hoping for the best, I leave the three of them to play and go back to my laptop.
Ten minutes later, I hear a familiar gnawing sound…..
I remember as a mom with three small kiddos that my days blurred together. The work (and joy) was endless, but at the end of each day when my husband would come home and ask, “What did you do today?” I would shrug my shoulders, unable to remember anything I’d actually gotten done.
My days lately have an eerie sense of dejavu.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my puppies. I just can’t wait for them to get the heck out of Dodge.