BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF WESTERN HISTORICAL ROMANCE!
Caroline Clemmons writes historical and contemporary genre fiction. Historical romances, contemporary romantic suspense, mysteries, and paranormals are among her current works. Learn more about her at www.carolineclemmons.com
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
We have a puppy. Neither Hero nor I knows diddly about
training a puppy. We had never planned to have a dog this young. He and I are not learning very rapidly and neither is the puppy.
Daughter 2 and I were driving home from a garden center on March 16th
when we saw a double cab pickup truck slow down, open a door, and toss something out of the vehicle.
When we drove nearer, a puppy was in the middle of the highway. Thankfully, this was Sunday afternoon and
traffic was light.
Well, what could we do? We (meaning I waited in the car while DD2 walked back and picked up the puppy) rescued the dog and brought her home. Her name is
Bridget, so named because that's the name of an Irish saint and we found her on St. Patrick’s Day weekend. She's part Chihuahua and part Dachshund. Sounds weird, but apparently that's a trendy mix. She looks
like a black Dachshund with long legs. After her initial trauma and soreness from hitting the pavement, she's
Has she ever!
But she's no saint. Bridget is enthusiastic, curious, and usually eager to please.
Everything is an adventure to her. She never appears depressed or bored.
she be with so many things to be chewed to pieces indoors and squirrels to
chase outdoors? When she’s excited, her
entire body wags, not just her tail.
Hero and I are at a loss as to her house training. She loves
to rush outside (always on a leash because only one side and the back of our
property have a fence) but she doesn’t really understand the purpose of her walks
across the lawn. You might think walking with our other dog would clue her in. You'd be wrong.
Apparently she believes her job is to chase squirrels. She
waits until she’s back inside to poop. No point messing up the nice green
grass, is there? And how can she concentrate on her bodily functions when she has to guard her people against the squirrel invasion?
All our pets are rescues. Our older dog, Webster, is such a quiet little gentleman who came to us at around age three. Our
older cat, Sebastian, fit in Hero's hand when we rescued him and is now large and dignified. Max, our Manx mischief maker
kitten, has settled in nicely.
Bridget, on the other hand, has been quite a
shock to our household and remains a challenge. If she weren’t so sweet, we’d be terribly angry because of her
chewing and pooping habits. But how can we remain upset with her when she is so eager to please and be loved?
The other day I was thinking how nice it would be if we were all more like
Bridget. No, not the lack of house training nor the animosity toward squirrels.
I mean her good qualities.
What if every day when we awakened we bounded out of bed,
eager to see what the day held in store?
What if everything made us happy just
to be alive?
What if our enthusiasm bubbled up and made us bounce with joy?