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Tuesday, April 26, 2011

A Boy and His Dog

Connor has only ever had one pet, a hamster named Happy, whom somebody -who shall remain nameless but who might possibly be the author of this blog- sent into a permanent hibernation by accident. Connor liked the lil furball, but a hamster is not exactly made for cuddling up with, ya know? 

So since he has lived up to his side of the bargain and maintained good grades all year (All A Honor Roll everytime) and has won other academic awards (Most AR Points Read by a 3rd Grader in the whole school district, for example), and since he is a little more focused and responsible at the ripe old age of almost 9, Connor is getting a puppy as part of his upcoming birthday.

This is him meeting the pup for the first time at my cousin's house (big shout out to Anita and Travis Simpson):


When we arrived, Travis was feeding all the pups and calling them all Sweetie in a generic form, not really referencing a single pup. When Connor and I later got to my parents' house, we printed out four pages of puppy names from the internet from which to choose a name. With all those choices, what did he decide on? Yep, you guessed it. Sweetie.

It has been just under 24 hours since we first saw Sweetie, and Connor has asked to go visit her at least 837 quadrillion times. (Sweetie is not yet fully weened and can't come home with us just yet.) In addition, he has absent mindedly run into a door frame, causing his baseball injured knee to rebleed. He has nearly had his head smacked three times while we were tossing around the baseball in the yard. He came close to running his bike in the ditch twice. He forgets the answer to any question that is not about his puppy This kind of daydreaming is usually reserved for a young, new love; and I supposed that's what this is: puppy love. Still, it makes me wonder if I should have waited until after he took his End of Grade Tests before springing the puppy on him.

But even with the new lack of focus and the 837 quadrillion pleadings to go see Sweetie, Connor has also given me 838 quadrillion hugs, kisses, and "Thank you, thank you, daddies." So I guess maybe that will be enough to get me through the first time I step barefooted in the wrong spot, sending puppy poo squishing between my toes.

I'm not sure about the second time...

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