Puppyhood

I never realized how much having a puppy would be like having a fourth child. When I was about 12, an adult dog adopted our family. His name was Blacky and we loved him. I don't think I've ever met a smarter dog. We could tell him to go to the kitchen, go upstairs, go downstairs ... and he would follow every command. But he was full-grown when we inherited him.

The last puppy I can remember having was when I was in, probably, first grade and we were living in Taiwan. We had a very tall cinderblock wall around our house and I was sitting on the top of it one day when I saw a tiny animal lying on the other side of the wall. I watched it for a few minutes and finally realized it was a dog. It laid so still, I thought it was dead. I picked up
some loose rocks from the top of the wall and threw them at the dog. It wiggled. In shock, I jumped down, picked it up, and carried it around to the front and in the gate. I took this tiny little puppy, only as big as my 6- or 7-year old hand and gave it to Mama. It turns out, the puppy had just been born and the mother was transferring the litter home. This was the last one. She hadn't yet returned to pick it up when I claimed it.

My mother fed that puppy with a medicine dropper and he lived. We named him Lucky. He was a German Shepherd and very loyal to our family. But I was so young, I have very little memory of him.

So, here I am, a 45 year old, with a puppy for the first time in 39 years. He has to be walked several times a day. He needs to be played with - he gets depressed if he doesn't get playtime with his people. He has to be watched constantly so he doesn't tinkle on the floor. I have to be always sensitive to time to be certain he's let out when he needs to be (the key to potty-training, I've discovered). I have to constantly chase him down and take shoes, slippers, stuffed animals, etc. out of his mouth. I have to be certain he gets his 3-squares. And I have to make sure each of the children get time with him daily and he gets lots of affection and training from me.

Whew!!! He was taking a nap on the loveseat the other night. I left the room to go to the kitchen and he woke up, realizing I was gone. He began whining and then outright barking. As I walked back into the Den, he jumped up and down and wagged his tail. I was gone all of 2 minutes. Don snickered. "Your fourth baby," he announced.

In some ways, I think having twins, triplets, quads, etc. might be easier. At least all your children would be dealing with the same issues at the same time, instead of potty-training one, teaching another how to ride a bike and what vowels are, another is learning to cross the street safely and how to play soccer, while Deanna has a whole other set of needs.

Four babies. All with their own set of very real needs. One Mommy.

Mercy, Lord. Send your rain of mercy.