Mr. Nanny

It's been a while since I've written. Either it really takes this long for me to conjure up something worth talking about, or I haven't cared enough to share. Probably a little of both. I mean, I AM pretty boring...

Oh yeah, the puppy at the top. Well, that would be Madeline Jolie. Consider the fact that you've just been poorly introduced to me and my wife's first, adorable, angelic, fuzzy, stinky, poops-in-the-house, pees-in-the-house, ADD, barks it up for no reason in the middle of the night, kid. Yup, they are all saying this is the "hands on training" before the real thing. I'm starting to believe it. It's been 2 weeks today since we've had her. I adopted her as a birthday present for my wife. Since then, sleep and free time have been scarce. Well, maybe not for her; the dog I mean.

Since yesterday, I have been like Mr. Nanny. My wife and I have had a family situation arise and she was needed back in our home town a few days before I could get there. She kept saying, "I feel so bad you have to be there all by yourself", and "Are you sure you are going to be ok?" I scoffed, "Psh! Of course, Hon, I can handle things!" What did I know...

Last night went surprisingly well. I had some of our friends over and one of them brought her puppy for Maddy to play with. They had a blast and were non stop the whole night. I would've figured 4 hours of neck to neck nibbling would tire her out more than usual, but to my surprise, like clock work, she had to "number 1 and number 2" twice throughout the night preceded by a warnings in the form of barking to the tune of "I really have to go" and "Hey I'm prairie dogging it!"

It's been pretty rainy all week so the ground is soaked which makes for muddy paws. Hey, I'm not complaining, I'm just trying to give you a snapshot of what I have to work with here. Well, right before 6am, as always, Maddy's internal alarm clock goes off and I have to drag myself out of the bed to start the day. (I once was privileged to sleep until almost 7 but who's counting)? To make matters worse, I could see a flicker or two of lightning in the distance. I didn't pay it much attention as I slipped into my robe and flip flops and walked out the front door with the dog.

She's gotten pretty good with the whole potty training thing. We still have to watch her or she'll tinkle in the house but she tries not to "boom boom" unless she is outdoors. Unfortunately, a much bigger "boom boom" got to us before hers did which sent her into a tizzy! She bolted until she reached the end of her leash but had so much momentum it yanked her back sending her into a backwards somersault. If that wasn't comical enough (I don't think there was much pain involved you animal rights activists as she didn't let out so much as a yelp), she toppled into a mud puddle and skidded to a stop. She finally gained her senses and scampered back over to me, but couldn't regain composure enough to finish her appointment with Dr. John underneath the pine trees. We had both just experienced puppy's first thunderstorm.

Knowing well and good that the distance from the door to the bathroom is covered entirely by carpet, and envisioning that whole mess to clean up, I picked up our sopping dog and opened the door to go inside. I was greeted with a fraction of whatever natural, not quite morning light was seeping in around the edges of curtains and through the open blinds in the dining room. "Great," I thought, "Now the power is out". I somehow made it to the bathroom without setting her down, and smothered her with a bath towel hoping I transferred some of the mud onto it instead of the floor. I got my hands on a flashlight and once the dog was dry and clean enough to walk around, I just sat kind of staring into space for the next hour until the power sprung back to life. Most of that time, Maddy rested in my lap, completely at peace and grateful for not being subject to an angry Mother nature. Hey, if I were Her, with all the Lassie Loaves being dropped on me every little while, I would've fought that one too. If anyone cares, I was not late to work...


Our good friend (the one with the aforementioned puppy friend of Maddy's) let her out while we were gone throughout the day. Somewhere, however, between noon and 6pm, in her kennel, Madeline decided to clean the sewage pipes and painted a picture somewhat resembling a modern art piece for me to admire when I got home. And like all great painters, she wasn't afraid to get a little "dirt" on herself in the process. "Nice, Maddy," I said to her. "Good work". After a bath, dinner, and a ton of cleaning up (both her messes and mine), it's late. My eyelids are starting to lose the ability to resist gravity. All I can think about are single moms. How in the heck do they get anything done?? Seriously. I work with hundreds of single moms for a living and am supposed to be the one offering them help and solutions but I am realizing that I am all talk. I have seen a SLIVER of what they are going through by being on my own here the last few days.

Now I know what you are thinking, "This guy is a whack job! His wife leaves him for 2 days and he can't even take care of himself and a puppy?!" I know. I'm not saying it's the same or remotely close but I sort of get it. My line of sight has broadened slightly is all I'm saying. So here's to you mothers of pets and more importantly, real kids, I will call myself Mr. Nanny.