A Penny for My Thoughts

I don't expect life to be easy. I guess I just expect it to be easier than it is. So why, then, would I choose to sign myself up for more complication.

As Jamie Foxx might say, maybe I should blame it on the alcohol.

I have a wife, two sons, a stepson, a dog, two houses, a full-time job and somewhat of a seasonal part-time job. My wife also runs her own business out of one of our houses, so there's certainly a great deal of stress to go around with that too. She appears to be every bit as stressed as I, however, she remarkably has grander plans. She talks about expanding her daycare even more, she has a seemingly insatiable desire for a fourth child, and in the background all I want to do is get some more fucking sleep.

Well, that hasn't happened recently. Why? Because we got a new dog. A new eight-week-old puppy, to be exact. And, trust me, this does not make life any easier.

Don't get me wrong, the puppy is adorable. Her name is Penny. (The name was actually one that I threw into the mix. When brainstorming for names, my wife wanted to think of ones that started with P so it would sound cute with Dog #1, Pebbles. I, naturally, starting thinking of TV show characters. Lost is generally at or near the top of my list, so Penelope Widmore gets credit here, although I think just one of her breasts is larger than my new dog. I digress. Anyway, back to the canine Penny ...) She's very playful, she's been very quick catching on to house training, but she's got an unquantifiable amount of energy. That doesn't bode well with small children around either, particularly those who insist on simply rolling around her and putting their hands in her face.

Now picture a maniacal, impatient, short-tempered man seemingly pacing around the house in circles.

"Don't eat that!"
"Get your hands out of her face!"
"Put that down!"
"Stop biting him!"

Oh, it's a scene, man.

So how did we get here? The idea of another dog has come up many times, although when asked within the last month how likely I thought it was that we'd get another dog soon, I estimated the probability at a mere 20%. It was only a possibility because I sometimes feel sorry for Pebbles. She's the spoiled little girl of the family, which I often point out as rationale in my case against having another child. We've already got our little girl. But Pebbles often seems to just be bored. I don't know what the hell she's thinking, but it looks like she could use some more stimulation.

But I also know it's not as simple as plopping another dog into the mix and watching them frolic happily. Would the spoiled little five-year-old dog feel betrayed, as if the spotlight is being turned away from her? It was a realistic possibility for me, seeing as that's what happened to my beloved cat when Pebbles came along.

It's clearly a debatable topic, and without a clear-cut answer, the status quo certainly appeared safe. But that all somehow changed a couple of weeks ago. As is fairly common, my wife was spending one late evening on our couch perusing the pups on Craig's List for Shih-Tzus (which is Pebbles' breed). She came along a cute one that was mixed with Mini Australian Shepherd. And the "What If?" game ensued.

"What would we name her?"
"How big would she get?"
"Do you think Pebbles would like her?"
"Do you think it would be good for the kids?"

I played along, all the while enjoying several drinks and the NBA Playoffs. I hardly thought there'd be a new dog under our roof the next fucking day. But that's exactly what happened. There were some e-mails and texts early that next day, one of which led to my wife's happy proclamation: "She says we can get her today!"

I thought, "Of course we can get her today. Just about anyone can get her. But that doesn't mean we are getting her ... does it?"

But we did. The wife, of course, was dumbfounded by my seeming change of heart. She claimed I was 100% on board with it the previous night, which means I must have drank a hell of a lot more than I thought.

Regardless of the chain of events, there's a new spoiled little girl in town. And, not surprisingly, all of the spoils are going to her.

Welcome to the party, Penny