Updated: Sep 20, 2018
Some of you may have noticed I haven't written any blog entries since we got a puppy. Well, I did write one, but of course it was about buying a puppy. In that blog entry, I mentioned that this cute little bugger is now the center of our universe. Oh how true that is.
I've had absolutely no time to even think about writing. I considered writing about how I no longer have any time to write, but of course, I didn't have time.
I knew puppies were a lot of work, but I didn't fully appreciate just how much work they are. You find yourself watching them a lot. You watch them as they lay on the floor, basking in their cuteness; then they move and you have to follow them to make sure they don't pee on something. It's not grueling physical labor by any means, but you can't exactly start a project while you're watching a two-month-old puppy; at least not a project that will take more than 38 seconds.
Eventually his bladder got stronger and he gained a fuller understanding of our strict no-peeing-inside-the-house policy. But there have been other things to occupy this writer's time besides watching Sir Peesalot. For example, there was a fence that needed to be built. There were vet appointments, puppy-training, numerous trips to the pet store, and of course sitting and watching him; not because he might pee on something, but because he is the cutest thing you've ever seen. Well, in my opinion anyway. Nevertheless, he is finally beginning to require a little less of our attention; so I thought I would take this opportunity to sit at my laptop and jot down some thoughts.
Our little boy turned six months old yesterday. He is quickly transforming from an adorable little puppy into a handsome young dog. Our little boy is becoming a man. And just as he is becoming a man, we're going to make him a little less of a man, if you know what I mean. And I'm sure you all do.
In two days, our handsome young dog is going to be wearing a lampshade. Sadly, it won't be because he had too much to drink at a party the night before. Oh how I wish that were the reason. In two days, our big, strong, handsome man is going under the knife. More specifically, the knife will be going under him.
This has been the cause of great consternation for my wife and myself. It would be cause for great consternation with Copernicus as well, if he had any idea what was about to happen to him.
"You're going to let them do what?!" I can hear him saying.
It sounds a bit simplistic to say it's for his own good, but it sort of is. If he were living out in the wild, it would be a different story. But that's sort of the point. A Boston Terrier would not be living out in the wild. Boston Terriers, like every other breed of dog, have been bred to be domesticated animals. Our boy is a descendant of wolves, and as such, he has the instincts of a wild animal. But you'd have to go pretty far back in his family lineage to find a wolf.
Of course, if he belonged to a breeder, it would be a different story. He would be able to remain fully intact; but would that really be a better life? There'd be a lot more sex, that's for sure. But after a while, it would probably get to seem like work. It would be his job, after all. Just another chore.
"Oh look," he'd say, as his breeder introduced him to another mate. "They're bringing me a new bitch to knock up. I guess it's time to go back to work. And surprise, surprise ... it's another Boston Terrier. Oh goodie. You'd think they'd throw in a poodle or a Yorkie every once in a while, but noooo. It's always gotta be a Boston. God forbid someone would ever buy a dog that's not 100% pure-bred. God forbid a guy might be able to get a little variety from time to time."
Doesn't seem so great when you look at it in those terms, does it? Perhaps I'm projecting a bit too much cynicism onto our hypothetical stud dog, but I think I made my point. Or at the very least, I've created enough plausible doubt to quench the thirst for denial I'm experiencing right now.
One of the things that bonds you with your pet is that they rely on you to take care of them, to protect them from harm. I know in the long run he will be better off, but in the short term, it's going to be very difficult to look him in the eye for the next couple of weeks; and not just because the lamp shade will be obstructing his line of sight.