I’m an extremely sentimental person. Maybe too sentimental? I mean, I like to take note of momentous occasions and make a REALLY big deal about them. Case in point: the first day I took Rory home to live with me! Yesterday marked his two-year homecoming anniversary, so I just wanted to take a minute to say how much joy he’s brought to me in the last two years. I wasn’t in a very good place before I adopted him (I moved back home after finishing college, had multiple falling-outs with people I considered to be my best friends, and dealt with stress induced illnesses), but once he came things all seemed to go upwards from there.
It’s been a dream of mine to have a dog since I was probably 4 years-old, and I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more perfect fluffy companion. Rory’s vivacious to the max, terribly goofy and odd (Tim and I joke that those traits prove that he’s definitely our “kid”), super lovable, and über loyal. My parents like to do this thing where they pretend to hit me to see what Rory’s reaction will be and he’s always on the defense and tries to protect me. You totally know it’s love when your dog will try to bite your mother because they think she’s trying to hurt you. And he’s always there to greet me whenever I come home from work! I particularly find it adorable when I go up to him and he immediately rolls onto his back — the universal dog sign for “gimme belly rubs, please!” Even when I get home really late and he’s too tired to run up to me, his tail will still wag like crazy as he lays comfortably on his big ole bed in the living room 🙂
Either that or he’ll see me and runaway because he wants me to play by chasing him around.
Here’s to many more years with my little albino ewok. ♡
About two and a half weeks ago Tim’s mom and sister went to Ohio for a whole week and asked me if I would be able and willing to housesit/petsit for them. I said yes without hesitation! A whole week alone with dogs (and one cat)? HELL YES. Plus it feels nice that they trust me enough to stay in their home and look after their animals.
Taking care of Rory is a challenge in and of itself (he can be such a stubborn a$$hole!), and I had agreed to watch over their three beloved digs (not a typo, that’s what they call them), Brady, Schatzi, and Jezi, and cat, Molly. It felt a bit overwhelming, but I was up for the challenge. They’re good dogs anyway, so I wasn’t completely worried.
I stopped by a few days before they left to see how they go about feeding them, and then I got a tour of all the little doohickies around the house (watering flowers, security alarms, etc). I also did a test run to see how they’d respond to me coming in and feeding them the day after. Luckily for me, they freakin’ love me — so it went well. 😀
I was prepared for Brady’s thick drool to hit the hardwood floor come breakfast and dinner time (hence why a paper towel is placed on the floor by the food), I was prepared to hold him in case he had a random seizure, I was prepared for Jezi’s sneaky kisses and knew when to avert them (she’s sweet, but she eats poop), hell, I was even prepared to cleanup the litter box every other day. What I wasn’t prepared for was something else I didn’t even think would happen.
Poor Brady. That guy’s stomach is super sensitive. He ate Rory’s food when I was preparing their dinner. Later that night I was on the phone with Tim and that’s when I smelled the funk. “I think one of the dogs tooted… oh God, it’s so potent!” Several minutes later, it didn’t go away. I got off the couch to adjust myself and then I saw little brown spots around the table. I thought they could be mud prints from when I let them in. But they weren’t shaped like paws. And then I saw a big goopy brown sludge pile and that’s when my heart sank.
“Tim, I think one of the dogs had diarrhea.”
I was panicking. I got off the phone with Tim after freaking out (“Oh my God, Tim. Oh my God. Oh, it’s so gross. OH GOD, WHY? TIM, WHAT DO I DO?”), rolled up my sleeves, and got down to business… Mike Rowe style.
I’m glad no hidden cameras were placed around the house for reality show purposes because I was HORRIBLE. I made whiny noises, I constantly cried out, “OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GROSS!” And gagged numerous times. If I were being filmed for a reality show, Joel McHale would’ve probably featured me on The Soup and made fun of me to no avail. 😦
Brady had diarrhea the next day too. And to boot, Rory ate all kinds of plants when I let him outside to play with the other dogs, sooo he threw up quite a few times (he even puked on my Hello Kitty blanket and the blanket the digs sleep on in the family room). At one point, he had a root in his mouth that looked a lot like poop. He wouldn’t drop it, so I had to reach in and get it. AHH! Can you imagine taking out mysterious items out of your dog’s mouth?
Long story short, I knew taking care of animals was going to be hard, I just didn’t realize it was going to be that hard. But despite the loose poop and puke, I enjoyed their company very much (animals > people, it’s a fact) and even offered to petsit again if they ever needed me to. 😀
Last Saturday was mine and Tim’s SUPER EPIC SCOTT PILGRIM-DOCTOR WHO-STAR WARS-COOKIE BAKING DAY, but it was mostly filled with puppies, Doctor Who, and cookies. But really, you can’t go wrong with puppies, Doctor Who, or cookies. There’s all kinds of win in that combination!
First, we went to go visit Rory, but the owners weren’t home yet, so grabbed some lunch and headed to Target to look at the Star Wars toys and proceeded to drool over the new Lightsabers that made vwoomp noises. They even come with DVD tutorials on how to look like a badass while using them. WANT.
Afterwards we went back to see Rory, and Edgar (my Auntie Nelly’s co-worker/awesome dude who’s giving me my puppy) was cleaning the garage — he said it was starting to stink in there from all the puppy pee. Edgar brought the puppies out on the front lawn, so as he cleaned, Tim and I played with them. This was their first time outside of the garage! Rory seemed to really like hanging out in the dirt and took a nap.
I also bestowed Tim the honor of being Rory’s godfather. 🙂
A few days before my visit, Auntie Nelly told me Rory had an accident, and she said it in such a nonchalant manner too. I was like, “OH MY GOD. WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?!” Poor little dude just got his furry butt stuck in a sticky mouse trap. Edgar further explained the incident to me. It happened in the wee hours of the night and he heard one of the puppies crying, and alas, it was Rory! He said he had to cut off some of his fur to get the sticky stuff off, but when I inspected him, I couldn’t tell that anything had happened.
All the puppies are supposed to get vaccinated and whatnot really soon. I was told that I get to bring Rory home sometime in October when he’s 2 months old. Plus he’s not able to eat super solid food yet since he doesn’t have all his teeth yet. Betty is the only one that’s developing — she has soo many teeth! Rory only has one tooth so far. Rory is also ridiculously mellow. Compared to the other pups he’s really quiet. The other boy in the litter is a little attention wh*re, always squeking and seeking your attention.
Anyway, the day continued with Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, but then right before the first evil ex fight I was like WE NEED TO BAKE COOKIES! I brought this cookie mix thingy back in January, but we always put it off. They turned out really fugly, but were super delicious, and that’s what counts most!
And they were ready just in time for the Mid-Season Premiere of Doctor Who entitled “Let’s Kill Hitler” and Rory (the character, not my dog) punched Hitler, told him to shut up, and stuck him in the cupboard!!!
Last week my dad had me look up different dog breeds after he saw a picture of a Pomsky (Pomeranian/Husky mix), he even asked me if I wanted a dog, which I thought was weird since I always assumed that we just weren’t a pet family (even though I begged for one for YEARS when I was a kid). I think my only issue with having a dog is having to constantly clean its crap. Whenever I’m out and about, I’m always on doodie patrol — meaning, I always watch where I step in case there’s dog poop. Would you believe me if I said I’ve only stepped in dog poop once? Well, it’s true.
Anyway, that same night my dad had me do doggie research, my aunt told me her co-worker’s dog just had puppies and offered one to her. I said I’d think about it since they’re Havamalts (Havanese/Maltese mix) — not exactly my dream dog (I like Mini Schnauzers, Corgis, & French Bulldogs), but then again I didn’t expect my first boyfriend to be a ginger (me gusta dark haired lads).
I did some research, deemed it a good fit and felt that I was ready to take on the responsibility, but figured I needed to meet the puppy before I seriously considered getting it.
So I met the litter today and this little dude was handed to me…
He was such a sweetheart! And he’s pretty tame compared to the other pups. I fell in love immediately. 😀
I’ll probably be able to take him home in two months since he’s still getting fed by his mama, which gives me ample time to figure out this problem: What am I going to name him?
I’ve been toying with naming him after some of my favorite TV characters, such as Rory Williams Pond from Doctor Who or Dr. Simon Tam from Firefly. I really want to name him Rory, but…
I’m not sure if he looks like a Rory. Havamalts are really cutesy, and Rory is a badass.
My dad and grandpa would have a really hard time saying his name.
I might have a hard time saying his name. x___x
My mom keeps saying she likes the name Chuck, as in the nerd turned super-spy that Zachary Levi plays on the show of the same name. She asked me to put the name into consideration, so I have.
I’m leaning towards Simon since he’s a pretty boy, and the dog will end up looking pretty too. It makes sense! But I’ll be visiting him every now and then to better bond with him, so I’ll see what name I think suits him best as I get to know him.
Here are the possible namesakes of my puppy:
What do you think? Do you have any names to suggest? Let me know!