After months of talking and planning, Whitney and I have adopted a puppy together. A beautiful little terrier / american pitbull / boxer mix named Nathan Scott Phillips-Menning, after Meatwad’s pet snake.
He’s only three months old, and when they said he’s not “housebroken at all” they were not exaggerating. Now, I thought I was prepared for this. The little guy would get all distressed and let me know when he had to go to the bathroom, and I’d have to clean up a few accidents from time to time. Everyone says that dogs naturally don’t want to pee where they eat, sleep, and live. Not this guy, though. Currently, he loves peeing on the floor. It’s no accident. That’s just how he goes, and we have yet to teach him otherwise. What he seems to love more than that is trying to eat the pee-soaked paper towels. What a fun game! What he loves even more than that is trying to eat his housetraining pee pads.
As I kind of expected but hadn’t yet fully understood, we really can’t let him leave our sight without him eating every non-food item in reach. Next week we start obedience training, and I think I have more to learn than he does.
But chewing and peeing and pooping aside, he’s the most lovable, cutest, sweetest dog ever. And even though he’s got this endless store of puppy energery, Frank Ocean’s “Thinkin Bout You” works like a charm for lulling him into a carefree nap. Right now he’s lazily snoozing on the couch and I finally have a few minutes to write this.
This next part I’m sure will elicit some eye-rolls from the readers with kids, but this puppy marks a new phase in my, and Whitney’s adult life. Adopting this puppy was not a frivolous decision. We fully intend on looking after our little guy for the rest of his life. That’s a commitment we’re 100% ready for. To borrow a term from my friends Mike and Molly, he’s our furkid, and we intend on treating him as such.