Crappity-Crap. New Puppy. All My Fault.

(Post and photos copyright 2011, Dawn Weber)

Sh#t. My dog does.

Every two hours.

She's adorable, though. And if you're going to crap yourself, cuteness helps.

Here at the Lighten Up Center for Useless Information (LUCUI), we have a theory about this (of course we do). Baby animals are irresistible so that someone will clean up their poo. And put up with their wailing. This ensures survival of the species.

We have our own new little mess machine. Her name is Suzie. She's a two-month-old, mixed-breed mutt. As you can see, I put quite a bit of thought into the decision to adopt a dog:

Dawn: Sees Puppy.
Dawn: Sees Big Brown Eyes! Twee Furry Face! Pouchy-Pup Belly!
Dawn: *MELTS*.
Puppy: Sees Dawn *YAPS!*
Dawn decides: Puppy must live with her. Now.
Puppy: *YAPS!*
Dawn: Picks up Puppy to take home
Puppy: *YAPS!*

And that? Was that. According to the husband, this is my usual method of choosing pets.

"You see a cat, you bring it home," he says. "You see a dog, you bring it home."

You'd never know Suzie is a pet. To hear all the conversations at our place this week, you'd think we had a newborn human baby:

"Did she eat yet?"

• This is very important information. Because the timing of the food is directly related to the timing of the poo. We must enforce strict schedules - Suzie doesn't particularly care where or when she makes a deposit. But I care. I care a lot.

"Did she poop yet?"

• Again, with the schedule. The last poo is directly related to the timing of the next poo. Because sh#t happens. In Suzie's case, it happens EVERY TWO HOURS.

"My God! Get that outta her mouth!"

• What an advanced palate has our puppy! Safe to eat? Suzie says yes! Yes, please! To electrical cords, Legos, my son's underwear, flip-flops, tissues, my underwear, fingers, toes, the husband's underwear...Edible underwear? They are now.

"Uh-uh. No way. It's YOUR turn to get up with her."

• Getting a puppy was my idea.This comes up often. It comes up at 12 a.m., 2 a.m. and 4 a.m. Comes up EVERY TWO HOURS. She whimpers from her crate, the husband's foot creeps under the covers to my leg and...*KICK.*
  I've had smarter ideas.

And I should have known better. I've been through this before.

But...but...

The Big Brown Eyes! So precious! While yapping in the crate...
The Twee Little Furry Face! So adorable! While chewing holes in socks...
The Pouchy-Pup Belly! So irresistable! While producing more poo...

Yep. Babies are cute for a reason. I've said it before, I'll say it again.

God - He's no Dummy.