The Rosie Chronicles, Volume 1

The adventures of a very cute Boston Terrier puppy and her exhausted, but happy owners.

img_0923Much to the negation of ‘we’ll never have another puppy again,” we drove 2 hours to just “see” the last of the litter of 5 Boston Terrier puppies – a little female with a not-so-smooshed-in” face and a wiggling butt and tail that sealed the deal at first glance. Home we drove with this squiggling little mass of black and white in my lap who finally fell asleep when we were just 20 miles from home – a foreshadowing of what was to come.

Next – the introductions! Our 2 resident BT’s looked at the lump in my arms with this “What is THAT and why is it in MY house?” Our oldest is indeed a senior citizen at 11, but he is mellow and always fine with other dogs. My 9-year-old female? Ha – now that’s a different story. Her track record with other pups is less than stellar and she usually goes for the weak one, a fact of which I am not proud. But dogs will be dogs, and so???

Day 1

It was late afternoon by the time we got home and the priority was to establish separate territories for the troops, namely keeping Sasha – the 9-year-old – behind the gates that wall off the kitchen. We left my old man in with Rosie and voila – let the party begin! Normally a dignified gent, Brinkley has risen to the challenge of our utterly relentless baby girl and become a puppy again in his own right. It is heartwarming. In the meantime, Sasha just sits, stares and throws me pathetic looks at which my heart breaks. Sasha – hang in there, we’ll work this all out.

Night 1

Our first night was … interesting. Brave hearts or foolish souls, we invited little Rosie into our bed. All was well until the bell tolled at 4 a.m. and little teeth found their way to nice, soft, warm fingers and toes. Ouch! I promptly went to my computer and ordered 3 books on puppy training. After our 4 a.m. unwelcomed wakeup call, we walked around like zombies all the next day, albeit with smiles on our respective faces.

Days 2 – 6

Laid back? Ha!! That’s the term the breeder used to describe our little wild cat who is constantly looking for the next thing with which she can get in trouble, who has learned how to jump the kitchen room divider when our two seniors have remained properly ensconced behind it for years, who marches around the back yard carrying a branch with leaves as if she is ushering in a parade, who was found happily munching on a cicada shell, and well – get the picture? And would you believe, at this moment, as I write, she is curled up in my lap, fast asleep, making me out to be a great big liar!!

To be continued ….

P.S. – Sasha actually played with Rosie for 2 minutes one day. Things are improving.

Author: madmuser

A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker, and a few things in between. And so that road less traveled has brought me here to follow my dream and my muse.

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