Awhile ago, my husband and I began secretly chatting about puppies. You know, the miniature beasts that steal your heart and then poo all over your carpet?
Quickly it became less of a secret. Mainly because our children like to pretend they’re listening to music when they’re really eavesdropping on important conversations. When it comes to spying, they’re a cross between Jason Bourne and Austin Powers. They’re quite adept at reconnaissance, but they can’t stop giggling about it.
My husband has been the main holdout in the puppy scheme. He was worried how our dog would take the change, and even though he’s never acted particularly enamored of her, Charlie has made it her life’s work to show him how much she loves him.
I walk in the door, she nods imperceptibly and drops her head again as if the energy expended in doing so may have caused a breaker to blow.
HE walks in the door and she’s all asking him about his day, handing him his slippers, rolling her eyes in my direction and whispering, “She STILL doesn’t know what she’s making us for supper!”
So, awhile back, my husband had to go out of town. He had an early flight and Charlie was in the backyard when he left. When she came back in, she couldn’t find him. She performed an exhaustive search, and eventually fell asleep behind the couch. He wasn’t there.
For two days, she walked nervously around the house, going out, coming back in, checking the laundry room (in case he was hiding next to the treats), sleeping in weird places and barking randomly. I started thinking she wasn’t so crazy about the puppy scheme either.
Then, my husband, the love of her life, sent her a video message.
It said, “Hey girl! I’ll be home soon! Who’s a good girl? Wanna treat?”
I played it over and over until I was the one wanting the treat. She loves him so much I was afraid I’d never get my phone back.
But thankfully it worked.
And now we return to the puppy scheme.