Oliver has taken over our lives. We tip toe around when he is sleeping, just like I did when I had babies (well, real human babies) as to not wake him up. We know the minute he wakes up we are expected to play “fetch” or he follows so closely behind us or beside us that both of us have tripped, trying to avoid a squashed dog. Forty-two years ago, I remember being so proud that I could actually bathe my newborn by myself, without asking anyone for help. It felt good to think of myself as a confident, competent new mom. It takes 2 of us to bathe this precious little 4 month old 3 lb dog. He wiggles and squirms and constantly tries jumping our of the bathtub, so one of us holds him (that is me since Randy is still one-armed) and the other washes him. An hour later, Oliver is clean, with freshly blow dried hair and finally asleep. So we are back to tip-toeing around. We have even resorted to always having background music when the tv isn’t on, hoping that will soothe Oliver and allow us to walk around without waking him up.
Yesterday, we went to the clubhouse for a concert, then drove a couple back home on our golf cart. The day was hot and we felt badly that they had walked up from their house. So we jumped on the cart and upon arriving at their house, they ask us in to see what all they had done to their house, since moving here around the same time we had. As we entered their front door, a sweet old corgi dog met us, named Toby. He didn’t run around our feet or jump up on us trying to get us to pick him up. The vision that comes to my mind is the difference between walking into a preschool and a nursing home. The preschoolers are running up to anyone who walks in the door, expecting you to go see everything they have done that day. The senior at the nursing home, just welcomes you and although is glad to see you, doesn’t jump up in your lap or expect you to see the lace doily they just completely. OK, back to the dog art story. When we left and headed back to our house, Randy looked at me and said, “I guess you will be ordering a t-shirt with Oliver’s picture on the front.” What? He couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed the t-shirt our new friend was wearing. Randy told me that he had seem this couple twice this week. The first time, Randy saw her, she wore a t-shirt that said, “I Love My Corgi” and the second time she had the picture t-shirt. It was then that I did remember seeing a huge picture of their dog on the front of her shirt. I assured him he didn’t have to worry about that. I don’t have any earrings that would go with a dog t-shirt. I feel so ashamed, the only way people would know we have a dog is from the dark circles around my eyes from Oliver waking me up at 5:30 every day.
We don’t even have a picture yet of Oliver in a frame sitting on the coffee table. When company comes, we immediately begin to apologize that we are bad parents to him. We don’t have any pictures printed up, we don’t have any clothing with his picture on it and he doesn’t own one outfit to strut around the neighborhood in. We figure that if we make it out of his terrible two’s, without confining him to the play pen, we will just be thankful that he is sleeping past 5:30 am and has ceased begging every time we sit down to eat anything. We have never given him table food or fed him treats from the table,; where do they learn to do that? I guess the same place toddlers learn to lie, sneak cookies and bite. Certainly not our house! NEVER! Must be the neighbors house or the Jezebel dog Myah, which is our daughter’s new puppy!