We brought home a new puppy back in April. 

 Had I not intervened, his name would be “Hot Dog”, but as I explained to my son, while the name seems cute now (it never seemed cute to me, but I did not want to hurt his feelings), it’s not going to feel so cute when your 15 year old friends come over in 6 years.  His name is Gizmo and we fondly call him Gizzy.  (FYI, adults are not much better than 15 year olds.  Who’d have anticipated a grown man twisting the name to be jizm.)

Puppies are wonderful.  I love that this little thing follows me around all over. I love that every time I come home, it’s like he hasn’t seen me in weeks. I love that this little animal will jump up on my office chair and sit right up against me while I work at my desk. Or snuggle up to me on the couch.

But it’s like having a newborn all over again. My house is once again baby-fied.

•  Gates are up and they make for nasty bruises when you’re walking around the house in the dark.
• The potpourri in bowls scattered through the house are now gone (he ate a dried orange slice from one of them. (FYI again, potpourri when eaten causes major upset stomachs in dogs.)
• The toilet paper has been fully unwound and dragged all over the house more than once.
• The chewed up shoe thing is no cliche. It happens. Fortunately not to mine though.
• Two laptop adapters have had their wires chewed through. That issue has cost me $175 so far.

But it’s all worth it. He’s brought a lot of life back into the house and that is priceless.

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