Old Yeller

We're now a couple of months into dog ownership, and I must say that having a puppy and a toddler has turned me into something I'd never been before: a Yeller.

In some ways, Cate is really well-behaved. She hardly ever barks and doesn't have a vicious bone in her body. She doesn't whine when she's in her crate, and potty accidents in the house are now a rarity (I refuse to jinx it again by mentioning how long it's been).

However, she does enough Cubby toy stealing (and eating: one car of the train Santa brought her was a goner before Christmas Day even ended), trash can scavenging (who knew Kleenex were such a delicacy in the dog world?), and general pestering that I find myself yelling at her more often than I'd like to admit some days. Then there's the running through the house at 80 miles per hour and doing back handsprings off of Cubby. And don't even get me started on the French kissing that goes on between the two of them. *hurl*

I've kept my resolution so far and taken her for a 20-minute walk first thing every morning--well, on non-work days, at least--and we try to keep her entertained throughout the day, but for a shepherd/terrier mix who's on the small side, size-wise, Catey Pup has jaws of steel. Meaning, every toy we've bought for her is somehow partly ingested within an hour, except the Giant Blue Squeaky Rubber Bone and the Kong. In fact, when Bear dropped her off at the vet to be fixed last month, she apparently threw up some painter's tape, pieces of a plastic toy, a bit of rope, a piece of Post-It, and other unidentifiable debris as soon as Bear left the premises. (I'm sure the vet will be presenting our Pet Owners of the Year award any day now.) Since then, we have Hannibal Lecter-level rules about what objects are allowed anywhere near the pup, so it's not like she has a lot of toys to keep her occupied.

Is that TWO Hannibal references in the past few days?!

There was a time when I felt I had almost infinite patience, and on good days, the toddler-pup duo allows me to keep that delusion. On bad days, though, I wonder if adding Cubby Two into this mix will push me over the edge and turn me into something resembling this (replacing the cat with Cubby, of course):

On a happier note, every time I question our sanity for keeping Cate in the first place, I see her and Cubby lounging on the grass, or hear Cubby yell, "C'mon, Pup, let's go!" as they take off together across the yard...and who can deny the love between a girl and her pup?


Here's Cubby using her Most Authoritative Voice when giving Pup a treat; and me doing horrendous camera work: