Tuesday, May 17, 2011


Well, we got a dog. His name is Bando. We were thinking about Bandit, but Mia kept saying "Bandaid", and I didn't want a dog named band aid. He's now 11 weeks old and a husky-beagle/lab mix. He's pretty cute and very puppyish. Meaning he pees in the house and teethes on everything including us. He's definitely a lot more work than I bargained for, but I'm not giving up and in three years or so he will be a great family dog. Hopefully my training will be so excellent that he will learn even faster than that and do his business outside like a civilized dog and stop terrorizing small children with his puppy exuberance.

Everyone including my husband keeps telling me that he's not a baby. Apparently they think I'm confused; I actually do feel a little confused and googled "puppy postpartum" in the days just after we brought him home. It really is strange how having him has brought back fresh all the memories of how unsettling it was to be a first-time mom. You're sure you're going to screw it up, the only horror is the anticipation of how. You have no sleep and everything becomes a huge deal. And you love your charge fiercely even though they seem to eliminate with impossible frequency. The best days are when I don't worry so much about him ending up with some incurable behavior problem. Or when I repeat what is supposed to be my new mantra: "He's a DOG." There have been a lot of awesome moments with him and he seems to be learning some things, so things are looking up. Change can be really good.

I was tucking Mia into bed the other night and we were discussing Bando. She affirmed that she liked him, that she loved him, and that he was her friend. I said,"He makes a lot of mistakes, doesn't he." And she said, "Yeah, but that's ok, we'll take care of him." I think that moment alone makes it all worth it.

1 comment:

  1. Let's all sing!

    There was a farmer had a dog
    and Bando was his name-o
    b-a-n-D-o, b-a-n-D-o, b-a-n-D-o
    and Bando was his name-o!