Hey there! After taking a hiatus last week because of pie tasting, Jeanne is back this Thursday with her Jeanne-ology series. Her thoughts this week have nothing to do with pie or with entrepreneurship, but a charming story nonetheless. If you like random stories about Jeanne (and who doesn't?), this week is for you! Enjoy - Rebecca
I would like to talk this week about regrets. I am confessing one of my biggest regrets of all time: getting a new puppy. I was the one that searched out a labrador retriever puppy, paid for it, and then told my husband that we were getting a new addition to our family. (Rebecca editing to add: her approach here - the deciding, the buying, and then the announcing it to her husband - is top in my list of admirable qualities about Jeanne.)
This time last year, we had two dogs (both rescue dogs). An older lab, Sister, and a beautiful small mutt, Winston. They were best friends and our life was calm. Early this summer, the Saturday mailman ran over Winston and killed him. We were heartbroken and angry about the incident. We both worried about Sister. We knew she was in mourning and no matter how much more attention we gave her, it wasn't the same. That's when we discussed getting another dog. My husband kept saying it was my decision either way. What that really meant was that if it was a bad decision, it would be my fault. (Rebecca editing to add: that whole mailman thing still stresses me out and irritates me.)
I decided to get a puppy. Wow, I had forgotten how much work they are! All of a sudden, our whole world turned upside down. My husband compared it to me having a baby at this age. We're to damn old, he said. I have to agree. She is beautiful and healthy and a whirlwind of energy.
We named her Dixie, but her nickname is Trouble. We have cleaned up numerous rolls of shredded toilet paper she has stolen out of the bathroom. Computer cords have had to be replaced, she steals pillows off the couch, and food off the kitchen island. She has stolen our neighbor's shoes, pool noodles and paint brushes. She is extremely fast and once you turn your back, something else disappears. The other morning she showed up with a full squash from Rebecca's vegetable garden. She proceeded to eat the whole thing. Our patio is never clean. She has ripped up ground cover from under the mulch, dug up flowers, and moved landscaping stones. (Rebecca editing to add: I wasn't going to tell Behind-The-Scenes Jason about the squash incident. Welp, it is out there now.)
This past Monday, I took her to the vet to be spayed. She was gone all day and it was nice. We were both hoping this procedure would calm her down. The vet said only over time would she become more mellow. I told the vet I didn't think we would live long enough to see that day. He thought I was kidding, but I was serious.
Today was no exception to her skill at grabbing items. My husband purchased a new expensive paint brush and he found it later in the garage but it had no handle...completely chewed off! I can't repeat was he said when he discovered it. We buy rawhide bones by the bulk and she rips through them like a skill saw. We are slowly going broke buying so many bones.
Sister seems to put up with her mischief pretty well. They bark and play with each other. She does mind me better than my husband. She responds to stay and we are working on other commands. My husband talks to her as though she is human. For instance, he yells "What are you doing?" Are you nuts?" l tell him she is not human and does not understand what he his saying. He believes she does understand him and is plotting some mischief to make him mad. (Rebecca editing to add: someone please give these people a reality television show.)
Just when you are exhausted with her, she comes up and gives you a lot of affection and licking. Every annoyance seems to melt away with that much affection. I know she will, in time, calm down. We love her and she will remain a part of our family. (Rebecca editing to add: this is true...I'm dropping in a picture I took when I was babysitting her.)
I just hope that at our age, we can live long enough to see that day.