Monday, July 27, 2009

Becoming a step-pawrent part 1

I have had a dog (or dogs) for as long as I can remember. When I was 2 years old, my parents brought home my first puppy, Kesha:

She was a complete and utter mutt...and probably one of the best dogs in the entire world (I know everyone says that about their pets though). She slept in my bed (even my crib!) with me every night when I was a child, up until the day that I left for college. Kesha never needed to use a leash on walks; she would never run away. We could just open up the front door and let her out, and she would promptly return after doing her "business."

Kesha also had a little brother, Gus, who was a bichon frise/maltese mix. Gus was a bit of a trouble maker...even though he was only 10 lbs, he would manage to get into the neighbors' garbage cans, throw up in inconvenient places (ohhh I have stories...), and run away at any chance he got. Gus was hyper, but despite everything, you still had to love him.

My senior year of high school, Kesha was 16, and Gus was 14. They were getting old and creaky, and pretty much slept the entire day. I guess my subconscious was aware of this, and I began sifting through the classified section in the newspapers on a daily basis. I knew I wanted to get another mutt (in my opinion, they are the best...they have great temperaments, few health problems, many don't shed, and are ridiculously cute!). One day, I came upon an ad for a litter of morkie (maltese/yorkie) puppies, and my heart started to pitter-patter. I somehow convinced my mom to go with me to the lady's house one afternoon. When we walked in the front door of the breeder's house, I saw a crate of puppies on the floor, filled with adorable little fluff balls!

Most morkies are black, with tan/white markings on their faces and bellies. However, there was one puppy that drew me. He was caramel colored...a completely different shade than the rest. I picked him up, and he immediately sat in my arms and closed his eyes as if to take a nap. I think my heart melted on the spot. Needless to say, my mother couldn't say no to him either, and we ended up driving home with a new puppy on my lap! It took me a few days, but I named him Theodore (Theo, for short), because he looked so much like a stuffed teddy bear!

Theo has been one of the greatest dogs I've ever had; we taught him to ring a bell that we tied to the front door when he needs to go out to the bathroom. How polite! Theo very rarely barks, unless someone is at the door...we thought he was a silent dog for a while there! more joined the fold! For my brother's 16th birthday, a miniature dachshund became a part of our family. After much consideration, we named him Stuart, but we call him Stewie or Stu for short! He is the world's biggest scaredy-cat, and even though he has a long body, we like to say that he rides on the short bus. But he always wants to snuggle with you on the couch, and stares at you with his big doe eyes. It isn't fair!

So, what do all of these dogs have to do with my wedding, you ask? I am about to become a step-pawrent! And I'll tell you all about my next post!

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