Something that I did one random Sunday afternoon was look up pictures of dogs on the internet and later that night came home with a puppy.
(I make it sound like it was impulsive and that I did zero research, but you guys know me. I researched my fricken brain out, it just doesn’t make for an interesting story.)
He’s a lab/springer mix and yes, I read that they’re energetic as eff, but I figured we could handle it. I think somewhere in my brain, I’m like, LOL I PUSHED OUT TWINS, I CAN DO ANYTHING, I dunno.
So anyway, we’re fur-parents.
And I have a ton of fur-parent friends, but I’ll be real with you guys – I didn’t totally get it. I was like, I dunno, it’s a dog, what’s the big thing? But nearly 3 weeks into fur-parenthood, I so feel you. Oh my gosh, do I feel you.
He drives me bat crap crazy, yea – like the first week we had him and I was like “ok, byyyyye” because I couldn’t deal and then when he pee’d in my house for the 45th time…you know, stuff like that. But I’m also like “OH MY GOSH, DID THAT TOY JUST SQUEAK? THAT’S THE FIRST TIME HE FOUND THE SQUEAKER IN IT, AWWWWWWW!” And other ridiculous stuff that you probably only think normal if you are a fellow fur-parent.
We named him Lord Vader and I like to joke that he’s our little disturbance in the force, but it isn’t really a joke because omg.