I can excuse my lack of blog posts over the past few weeks in one sentence – I got a puppy. Yip, On Sunday 11 April an 8-week old puppy (90% Daschund, 10% Pavement Special) was thrust into my arms and ten-zillion licks (and a warp speed wagging tail) later she was mine. Hubby and I were in puppy love all over again and Ellie had found a home.
I've always maintained that often the best decisions are made with the heart and not the head. I'm not saying that one should act on every impulse but sometimes you've gotta stop making excuses and move forward. Sure, a puppy is hardly as big a commitment as deciding to have a baby but I would argue that it's very good training – I'm an 8-hours of sleep a night kinda girl and the first week of puppyhood saw me averaging 3 or 4 hours. The shocker? I didn't just cope, I did so with a smile on my face and a warm fuzzy feeling that comes from seeing a 1.8kg puppy bounce through the park like a hyperactive bunny with little co-ord.
Too often the excuses ("It's just such a big commitment"; "we'd really have to change our lifestyle"; "we couldn't just 'lock up n go' like we're used to doing" ; "we'd have to move..." blah blah blah) keep us from discovering new 'better than a chocolate milkshake' joy. We're so caught up in the fear of losing a bit of the everyday life that we're used to that we often let opportunities to add to our lives pass us by.
For all the peeing and the chewing and the pooh-ing and the need to play just as I sit down to work I would never go back in time to the pre-puppy era. I like that she takes me to the park for a walk every day. I like that I no longer need to face the irritating 'beep!beep!' of my alarm clock in the morning. I like that I no longer need a hot water bottle. I like that I consider it a great achievement that she now listens to 'sit'. I like that she makes me laugh loudly and often. And I really like how she bounces like a cute furry meerkat on Red Bull when I get home after popping out to a meeting that she couldn't accompany me to.
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