With Six You Get Milk Bones

If you told me six weeks ago that I would soon have a puppy in my home, I'd think you were crazy. I mean, I can't have a puppy.  Dogs are not allowed in the apartment complex that we live in.

But, here we are; just shy of one month as puppy parents/brothers.

It all started in my GP's office. I've been dealing with anxiety and depression going through all of the medical crap that I've been dealing with for the past year. It's not horrible but it's enough to put me on medication.  Medication that I honestly hate taking. At my last appointment, my doctor felt it necessary to up my dosage.  I groaned.

"Couldn't you just write me prescription for a dog, instead?" I joked. He looked at me, confused. Then:

"Your apartment doesn't allow dogs?"  I nodded.  With that, he took out his prescription pad, and wrote out an actual prescription for an emotional support dog. I sat there, stunned. He continued;
"Dogs are wonderful for anxiety disorders.  They're also good for keeping blood pressure down."  He handed me the prescription and wished me good luck in finding a dog.

And suddenly, life changed; for all of us.

We discussed this idea with our kids and they agreed that it would be great for not only me, but for the entire family, as well.  So, we submitted the paperwork.  The very next weekend, Rob and I went to the local animal shelter. We had not been given the okay by our apartment complex yet.  Not a smart thing to do: going to the shelter when you might not be granted the okay (would not have mattered, I later learned that I cannot be refused if my doctor deems it medically necessary). So we went in and in saw so many dogs. There were two police officers holding the smallest, jet-black puppy.  He was so soft.  I told Rob, "Aw, they're getting the best dog in here."  One of the officers - both really nice women - put him back into his cage with his sister.

Bubba is on the right

My hopes shot up.  She looked at me and I said something like, "Oh, you're not taking him?"  She pulled him back out and put him into my arms.  "Oh, she's just looking... you're taking him."

Love at first sight.

Those two officers kept egging us on and telling us that the deal was made. Well, it wasn't.  It broke my heart because they kept saying, "If you don't take him now, he'll be gone by tonight."  Heart heavy, we left. If I was in need of an emotional support pup, I was now.  I was depressed all week. Days later, I resigned myself to the fact that "Bubba" was now adopted.  Yes, we would still get a dog, but I wanted him.

Robin saying "good-bye" to "Bubba." 

I went to the website of the shelter we went to just to see what was now available.  I was shocked to see that Bubba was still available!  We had just received our approval and Rob called to see if we could somehow put a deposit down to save him.  My nerves were shot.  They told us that that wasn't necessary, that they remembered us and they'd hold him for us.  The next day, we would bring him home!

I admit that life with puppy is harder than I remember.  Chewing, potty-training, potty accidents, crate training... it's exhausting.  But we wouldn't change a thing.  Already, Duke can "Shake hands" "Sit" and we're working on "Lie Down."  He will go into his crate when we tell him to "Go to your house" or "Go home."  The land-sharkiness is ebbing,  He's teething.  Lots of frozen binkies.

So here we are, a family of six. Birdie loves Duke.  Duke isn't sure what to think of Birdie. Maybe a nice appetizer?  I don't want to find out.

Month one with Duke: down.  We are tired, and our apartment is a wreck, but we're all in love with this little blue/black Lab/Bichon mix.  I really hope the Lab gave birth.  Just thinking about that poor little Bichon... Ugh.  But, I'm thankful to it.  Because now we have DUKE!

Just over three months old.