My life has changed a bit in the last week and a half. These recent days have consisted of searching for poop in the grass with my cell phone flashlight at nighttime, [unsuccessfully] guarding my delicate lady shoes from sharp vampire teeth, keeping smelly food pellets hidden in my coat pockets, and celebrating extravagantly when the word “sit” is obeyed on command.
That’s right, yinz, Aaron has turned into a dog!
Awww, c’mon, don’t worry, friends! I’m just kidding!
I actually now have my very own PUPPY! This new reality especially makes the 11-year-old in me extremely joyful, albeit also pretty tired. (People were NOT lying about puppies needing to pee a lot.)
My little fluffy buddy is named Reggie, which is obviously short for Sir Reginald Wattersmith, and he loves to eat and chew on everything. He’s also a needy little whiner who always wants attention. And he also is super playful with people and kind to other dogs.
Here’s Reggie last Wednesday on the way to our home for the first time—as you can see, he’s thrilled (meanwhile I’m literally crying with happiness):
But then here’s Reggie settling in and playing with one of his toys:
I just adore this guy. He’s such a gift, and I still, even a week later, am in awe of the fact that he’s a part of our family.