Gracie's been with us for a little over a week and the things I've done, many I'd never even considered, are mind-boggling. I can start with that I'm sitting on the floor with her and a spit covered bone is in my lap. Every time she knocks it off I pick it up, not minding the wet drool dripping off. If you knew me in the real world, you'd be shocked. I'm not a dog person and slobber is one of my least favorite things.
I deal with dog food, which makes me gag every time I open the bag.
I pick poop up off crowded NYC streets.
I am up and out of my house every morning before 7, barely changed out of pjs, not having combed my hair, my face covered with that post-wakeup oily sheen.
I spent part of last night in a stinky dog run, getting covered in grit and dust as dogs flew by stirring up the gravel. Gracie had a blast and infiltrated another family on the far side of the run. Happily sitting in a girl's lap, cuddling up next to the dad, we half seriously wondered if she'd remember us when it was time to go home. At one point though, she saw us and raced as fast as she could (which is pretty damn fast) back to us.
I participated in my very first puppy bath, during which 4 people and a very dusty dog piled into a too small bathroom with coconut shampoo, treats, and a shower sprayer. There were also many brushes and a blow dryer involved.
I've never talked to so many strangers and have been striking up conversations with the most unlikely people on our multiple walks every day.
I had to interrupt this post to clean puppy vomit off the floor.
But, it was ok. It's all ok. In fact, I'd take the stuff I'm not thrilled with any day for the delight and joy this puppy brings.
Can't write anymore. Time for walk 2 of the day . . .