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Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Meet the new guy.




It didn’t take long for us to come to the decision that a new dog was in the cards.

We’ve always said that we wouldn’t have another dog. Brylee was just too good. After six months of house-training, she never faltered. 5 am on the dot and she was standing at our bed with her nose up to Colt’s face.

When I was still working, she stayed in the bathroom all day. {I was never comfortable leaving her outside while no one was home.} She could go an entire work day without having an accident.

I’m talking 10 hours, people. She was uh-may-zing.

And of course, after raising her from an 8 week old pup and attempting to house-train her right up until her 6 month of life with no success, we have always been skeptical that we could deal with parenting another puppy.

{I kid you not, Colt came home from work on a Friday afternoon and announced to me and a then-6-month-old Brylee, “Well, I guess you will just have to be an outside dog. Training you has been a complete bust.” On Saturday morning, Brylee was standing beside the bed, gazing into Colt’s sleeping face at 5 am beckoning him to allow her outside. It was a Christmas miracle in May.}

But after sitting up late with each other Friday night with our jolly giant laying in the yard awaiting burial, we decided we couldn’t face Wyatt the next day without some kind of game plan. They were just starting to play with each daily. Food was exchanged twice, maybe even three times a day. {Wyatt giving food to Brylee, not the other way around, promise!}

Saturday night Colt browsed craigslist for some readily available options that we might be interested in.

On Sunday I contacted a lady in Crossville, AL about her Boston Terrier pups.  I was a bit nervous, as I hate the idea of a puppy-mill, but we drove down to meet the lady and her dogs Sunday afternoon.

I was pleasantly surprised that the pups seemed to be very healthy and the woman was very nice and efficient.  We paid more than I want to admit for the new pup, but we are considering it one of Wyatt’s Christmas gifts. I might even put the little guy in a box on Christmas morning, just to get a thrill.

Anyway, after a few days of pondering a fitting name, we finally decided on the name Mack. Since Boston's have historically originated from French Bulldogs and English Bulldogs {although some of it is speculative}, Mack is going to be a compact bully looking dog. The hubs and I both love the idea that he'll look like a tiny bully breed. And of couse, with a name like Mack, he'll have the name to prove it!


So far Wyatt has shown a bit of jealousy {putting all of his toys up high out of Mack’s reach, taking absolutely-every-blanket I let Mack fall asleep on}. I guess he senses that this tiny little animal is the new baby. But thankfully today he started trying to play with him. {Thankfully for Wyatt’s sake. Poor Mack looks a bit terrified.}


*MrsG

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