Random Thoughts, Dog Edition

The vision I had, of a little dog sitting in the school room with Rebecca, has become a reality.

See that yellow bag to the left? That's the dog food we special-ordered. Y'all, we special-ordered dog food. What in the world...

Dakota came to us with his name. And he’s had it for seven years, so changing it is a bad idea. Since we're not going to change it, Sean has let everyone know that we did not pick it. Because no respectable Duffy would select the name of a Dodge for our pet.

Michael keeps calling the dog, Dave. I have no idea why.

The advantage to having an older dog: he's already house- and crate- trained. So far there's only been one accident in the house and that was our fault for not moving fast enough in the morning. We have not made that mistake again.

Dakota's only real downside is his aversion to animals on TV. I'm sure no one will be surprised that Nature is Rebecca's favorite show. We settled in to watch one this weekend and as soon as Dakota heard the birds he went absolutely nuts:

I took this picture while he barked at the PetSmart ad.

So far he doesn't bark at Law & Order, so I'm good.

If my reaction to the dog is any indication, my future grandchild(ren) will be horribly spoiled. Horribly. For instance, Rebecca is training him to not bark at certain things. Like people coming in the house. Or animals on the television. But he has such a cute little bark that I find myself laughing at it. This does not please Rebecca.

She is also training Dakota to stay off the furniture. Sean and I appreciate her being respectful of our stuff, but I find myself saying, “He’s so small. He can’t do that much damage…”

Sean and Rebecca do not agree. They’re both good with the no-dog-on-the-furniture plan. I'm sort-of on board with it. Sort-of:

I don't even know who I am any more.

It pays to be the third

There are advantages to being the last kid. And considering our last, Rebecca, is the one who got dragged around to all the older kids’ activities, missed nap times and had later bedtimes in order to accommodate her siblings, it seems only right she’d gets some perks. And this week, she got a big one.

Introducing Dakota Duffy, the newest member of the family.

Back in October, I walked by Rebecca’s desk and saw her sitting there, all alone in the school room that used to house three Duffy kids. Everything was so quiet. Last year both of her siblings went to college; Rebecca spent the school year adjusting to being the only one home. It didn’t really feel real. But this year when they both left, Rebecca and I realized it was just going to stay quiet.

And on that fateful October day when I walked by the all-too-quiet school room, I thought, “I bet she’d like a dog.”

As soon as the thought entered my mind I tried to shoo it out. I did NOT want a dog! Dogs are messy and dirty and smelly. They cost a lot and what the heck am I going to do with a dog when we go out of town?

But I couldn’t shake the idea that having a little dog would mean the world to her. She'd been talking about having a dog for years. And for years, we successfully convinced her that we are not dog people. But the picture of her doing her school work with a little furry friend at her feet just stayed with me. I could not shake it.

I mentioned it to Sean later that night. I was relying on him to be the voice of reason. The one to say, “We are NOT dog people.” The one to say, “There, there, Christy. You’ve obviously lost your mind. Let me get you some meds.” Instead, he said, “That sounds like a really good idea.”

Oh. My. Word.

After the two of us talked about it for several days, we came up with three stipulations. She would have to find a dog that: 1) did not shed much; 2) weighed less than 20 pounds; and 3) was not a bazillion dollars.

When we laid out the plan for Rebecca, she looked at us like we’d lost our minds. For the briefest of moments, she thought we were playing a horribly cruel joke. After assuring her we were for real, a gigantic smile spread across her face and has been there ever since.

She spent several weeks researching and came up with the ideal dog for our family: a West Highland White Terrier. And she even found a Westie rescue organization and asked if we could adopt a rescued Westie. We submitted our paperwork the first of December. Two weeks ago, we heard that they had a dog that would be perfect for us: seven-year-old Dakota.

Last week we drove out to visit him at his foster home and Rebecca instantly fell in love. Four days later (after we passed our home study), he was packed up into our car, headed toward his new home. He’s been here for two days and in those two days Rebecca has said, “I can’t believe we have a dog!” at least a million times.

I can’t believe it, either.

Welcome to the fam, Dakota. We're all really glad you're here. 

On the way home!

Dakota doesn't stray too far from Rebecca.

I have a feeling they're going to be inseparable.