New Addition

The girls want a puppy.  I said no.  Then they asked for a cat.  I said absolutely no.  Hell no as a matter of fact. Then Ella asked for a new baby girl.  NO NO NO. 

I took them to PetSmart and let them smell how stinky the cat room is, "we don't want the house to smell like this do we?" I asked them, hoping they'd give the correct answer.

NO they did not!  But while I could find a really, really easy way to illustrate why we won't ever have a cat, I have an uphill battle when it comes to talking them out of a puppy thanks to the newest addition on our cul de sac...

 

Thank you very much to the neighbors for getting a shih tzu/bichon puppy who looks just like a living, breathing stuffed animal.

And while I guiltily wait for the day that I can excusably take my 16 year-old pomeranian -- who was the love of my life til I had children -- on her one way trip to the vet, watching the girls with the puppy is fun. They sit by the window and wait for the neighbors to bring the puppy out.  The first thing they say when they wake up is, "Can I go see the puppy today?"

This is a BIG deal, this tiny little puppy named Mason.  His unending silly antics only further the girls' delight and intensify their desire to add to our family.

But it's not going to happen.  I have become bitchy and cold hearted in recent years and thank goodness there are other animal lovers out there saving every four-legged friend they can because I'm done and over taking on one more living thing that will pee, poop, throw up on, or track in dirt on my floors.  I don't want one more creature whining about needing food or water.  And we spend enough time at the pediatrician trying to hold down wiggly, screaming beings; a vet trip is not something I want added to my list of appointments.  We don't need anymore shrill, loud noises in the home at 2 and 6 AM, nor do I need one more thing that will bite me -- Andi is taking care of that part of my life just fine.  I do not need one more tiny being that will run away from me, leave without telling me, or refuse to listen to the words coming out of my mouth.  And I surely don't need one more thing that I have to worry about getting sterilized, getting Dave to get this done is hard enough.  Like it or not, my dear children, we do not need to hear any more pitter-pattering of tiny feet -- of any kind -- here at our house.