I just got a mini taste of how working moms must feel...
A) leaving their baby, all big eyed and 'please don't go, mommy' at home while they rush off, laptop bag in hand to the office; and
B) coming home to a hyperactive, super clingy little creature who is sooooooo happy that you came back.
The only difference is that I am pretty sure working moms (ones with real, human children) don't come home to a sprinkler of pee... Thankfully, children have nappies to catch a little excited leakage. Sadly, puppies do not. I arrived home just now (after having to leave our new puppy alone for eight hours) to a phenomenon that is equal parts icky and impressive. My pooch was spinning around like an over zealous ballerina while simultaneously emptying her bladder... The result was a steady sprinkler-like stream of golden pee spinning around my kitchen. Not even my loyal following of The Dog Whisperer prepared me for it.
Half a roll of supersoft 2-ply toilet roll, a few trusty squirts of Handy Andy's miracle liquid (Acti Fizz) and almost an entire can of Clean linen scented air freshener later, and my kitchen was puddle free... Just in time for hubby's arrival home, which went something like this:
"hello my love," he said, crouching down to greet the little ball of anxiety. "Shame, darling. Did your mother leave you alone all day?" As if in agreement, the little attention seeker started squeaking. One squeak to each tail wiggle. And then Hubby brought out the big guns. "Shame, my pooch. All day, all by yourself, scared that no one was coming back, alone with nothing but your chew toys and abandonment issues..." By this point I was about ready to grab my credit card and max it on a year's supply of fillet steaks, delivered daily, courtesy of one of Jozi's best steak houses. Guilt is a powerful thing...
Luckily, Hubby started to laugh halfway through round two of the "shame darling" speech and pooch, momentarily distracted, made a very determined charge towards her 'mom'... All abandonment issues forgotten as she bounced like a little spring hare towards the person who feeds her. Looking into her big brown pavement special eyes all was forgiven, but I might just slip a little chopped up steak into her dinner anyway.
A) leaving their baby, all big eyed and 'please don't go, mommy' at home while they rush off, laptop bag in hand to the office; and
B) coming home to a hyperactive, super clingy little creature who is sooooooo happy that you came back.
The only difference is that I am pretty sure working moms (ones with real, human children) don't come home to a sprinkler of pee... Thankfully, children have nappies to catch a little excited leakage. Sadly, puppies do not. I arrived home just now (after having to leave our new puppy alone for eight hours) to a phenomenon that is equal parts icky and impressive. My pooch was spinning around like an over zealous ballerina while simultaneously emptying her bladder... The result was a steady sprinkler-like stream of golden pee spinning around my kitchen. Not even my loyal following of The Dog Whisperer prepared me for it.
Half a roll of supersoft 2-ply toilet roll, a few trusty squirts of Handy Andy's miracle liquid (Acti Fizz) and almost an entire can of Clean linen scented air freshener later, and my kitchen was puddle free... Just in time for hubby's arrival home, which went something like this:
"hello my love," he said, crouching down to greet the little ball of anxiety. "Shame, darling. Did your mother leave you alone all day?" As if in agreement, the little attention seeker started squeaking. One squeak to each tail wiggle. And then Hubby brought out the big guns. "Shame, my pooch. All day, all by yourself, scared that no one was coming back, alone with nothing but your chew toys and abandonment issues..." By this point I was about ready to grab my credit card and max it on a year's supply of fillet steaks, delivered daily, courtesy of one of Jozi's best steak houses. Guilt is a powerful thing...
Luckily, Hubby started to laugh halfway through round two of the "shame darling" speech and pooch, momentarily distracted, made a very determined charge towards her 'mom'... All abandonment issues forgotten as she bounced like a little spring hare towards the person who feeds her. Looking into her big brown pavement special eyes all was forgiven, but I might just slip a little chopped up steak into her dinner anyway.
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