Alvin is now Pete

So this last week, we had a puppy at our house for about 4 days. And then, in spite of my mother's "Never accept a live gift" rule, he went home with her to Beaumont. That's 4 nights of whining and barking, lots and lots of tiny puppy poop and puddles in hidden corners of the house, and lots of near crushings, as he jumped in front of my feet (or under my chair) a thousand times a day.

Reactions to our sudden and brief puppy ownership were pretty mixed. Stongly in favor was Wren-


She was very very bummed that he wasn't here when she got home from school yesterday. They really loved each other. I think Wren is at a very very fun age for a puppy- planning all sorts of dress up games, running around, never getting tired of throwing the ball, but enough of a big kid to be able to tell him "No" when he gets too bitey. So she is missing him.

Next up we have Jane


Who will not miss Alvin/Pete at ALL. He jumped on her when she walked in a room, licked her face and scratched her legs. He chewed on her favorite toys and cried when she tried to throw him across the room in retaliation. Tattle tale!

Jane spent Alvin's time of residence climbing up my legs, screeching in rage, dumping out his food bowl, or trying to assault him. So, even if we had ever thought about getting a new puppy, this would not be the time.

And of course, the strongest vote in favor of putting the puppy in a burlap sack and dropping him in a river:



This bundle of stoicism and long suffering neglect, Ramona.

Alvin went home with my mom, who will immediately un-crate train him, and he will spend the rest of his life eating steak on a plush velvet pillow, with short breaks for squirrel slaughters. She had to rename him, since she lives directly across the street from my dad, the original Al-Vin. Awkward.

So this short chapter of two dog ownership closes happily. And I know we have a while to go before we jump into that again.