new year mash-up. part 2.

To recall...

March 2011
We had always discussed getting a dog... trying to plan out the "when" and the "what kind" to the last detail.  The one thing that was non-negotiable was the fact that, if we DID get a dog, we would do so in the summer time, so that I could stay home and train it properly.

Well now... the heart wants what the heart wants, doesn't it? I had this nasty habit of perusing the Inland Valley Humane Society's website... with all the pictures of the sweet, homeless pups looking back at me. Masochistic in a way? Perhaps. Setting myself up for trouble? Well, I guess so. But I had been in this habit for months, never once being in danger of actually adopting a dog. Sure it was sad to see all those sweet little faces asking me for a home, but I knew our plan... plus I didn't really feel a "pull" to any particular dog... and I just knew there HAD to be some kind of "pull," right?  And I knew I definitely wasn't going to be pulled toward a chihuahua or a pitbull. I considered myself safe.

Until I saw her. A sweet little round fluff of a dog. A puppy's puppy. More a teddy bear than a puppy. This was her. She was mine and I was hers. I envisioned her toddling and tumbling around our small condo. Only a few weeks old (much younger than I had planned on), but no big deal. I checked her adoption date... it was the next day. I worked. Shoot. Wellllll... scribbled down her ID number and kennel... I would call after work... just to see... and if she was still there...well, it would just be plain fated to be.  3 o'clock arrived. She was still there! I flew down to the shelter where she awaited me. When she saw me, the whole world paused as she bounded into my arms and licked my face with her tiny pink tongue.  Okay, okay. In a perfect world, right? So 3 o'clock arrived. I called. She had been adopted earlier that day. Heartbreak. Probably a good thing though... seeing as how I had yet to even discuss with my husband the idea of suddenly getting a dog in March rather than the agreed upon June.

Told the Mr. about our close call with dog ownership. You did what? Reeelllaaaxxxx... see?... no dog... no worries............. but while we are on the subject.... what do you think about getting a dog now?  HAha. But I had the bug... the itch... the "disease" of (literal) puppy love.  The Where the Red Fern Grows Ch. 2 kind of disease. Yeah, that bad. And so it goes.... I pushed... he resisted... I pushed... he resis-- I pushed... and pushed... he?... I pushed. I can rationalize my way into or out of almost any situation. It is a flawed gift. A paradox. In this case, I rationalized us both right into owning a dog 3 months premature of that plan (what plan?) we once had.

To the pound! There were a few cute ones on the website (no "pull" though... but I didn't let that stop me! Nothing could stop me!)... so we decided to see what would come of it. We walked along the kennels... hearts breaking at every little face that looked our way. We made it to the very end of one long row of kennels and stopped to have a looksie. All the little terrier mix girl doggies went a little nutty at the sight of us... several barked to assert themselves... all eventually chilled out and scattered, paying us no attention... but only ONE quietly walked through the mass of wriggling pups, never losing eye contact with us, straight up to the chain-link fence, and put her little bearded snout through the gate that separated us, like she was just waiting patiently for us to get her the h____ out of there and take her home already. It was over. Even noble and wise Sir Steven couldn't ignore that illusive "pull."

We checked on her status... two weeks until she would be up for adoption. Mannnn. Oh well, we were a couple in love with a dog... so we did what we had to do and waited.. and hoped and prayed no one else would be there to claim or adopt her that day. We planned names (the pound had named her Zoe.. no thanks, not for me)... and decided upon the most perfect name for an 11-months old, blond-haired, floppy-eared, bearded terrier-- Bonnie Brae.  And she has been ours ever since.

Some things we have come to discover about our little Bonnie (or Bon-Bon as we have lovingly come to call her):
-Sometimes I think she is more human than dog.
-She has the best beard (for a girl).
-She has the softest ears. I want to eat them.
-She sheds like nobody's business. Seriously. We are talking covers-the-floor, covers-your-clothes, appears-in-your-food kind of shedding. All. the. time. I do not know how this little dog is not bald. Steven always says, "If I had known about this, we would not have this dog." Sure, sure.
-She is absolutely retarded when it comes to socializing with other dogs. Think high pitched screaming that sounds like she's being murdered every time she meets an untrustworthy dog (99.9% of the dog population in Bonnie's eyes). Yeah, she has issues. But we love her just the same.
-She has a serious case of "fishy butt" (anal gland problems). Luckily it only happens about once a month. But, again, we love her just the same.
-She dismantles and obliterates stuffed toys faster than you can buy them.
-We are pretty sure she has a bad case of separation anxiety.
-Bless her heart, she has the most durable bladder I have ever known a dog to have.
-She loves stealing Steven's socks.. and CDs when the opportunity presents itself.
-She used to have THEE worst eating habits. Up until a couple months ago, I didn't think I would survive her fickle eating.
-She used to be (and hopefully still is?) the best crate-trained little dog. Went (goes?) right in every night for bed and every day for work. It took us a while to get to that point, but I'm still proud.
-She uses reverse psychology techniques (in ways I will explain later).
-She is a lover. But she can be a hater (when it comes to other dogs).
-Her nose used to be black, but turned brownish-pinkish in August/September...? I miss that little black sniffer.
-Her first real doggie friend was a rottweiler, also named Bonnie, from puppy training class. Go figure (on both those facts).
-Her genetic composition perplexes me. I so very badly want to do a DNA test on her.
-I could kiss her all day long (except on fishy butt days).



And presently...
I am approaching a 3 day weekend. Been looking forward to this since Christmas break ended.
One of my students cheated on a test today. So sick sick sick of the cheeeeatinnnng.
My mother is taking me to see the musical, Wicked, tomorrow night. Hope it's a good one.
Going 2 weeks strong with NO TV. Not voluntarily. Not fun. Not love (=hate).
Going 2 months strong weak with no grocery store trips. We are dying here. In a literal sense, I'm pretty sure. Time to go order a pizza.... :-(
But to end on a brighter note... I've got my Bonnie bundle by side :-)

sweetness.