"When did he learn to do that?" my six year old howls.
"About the same time that you did!" I reply.
This creature, both fascinating and infuriating, is not a typical dog. Part cat, part Tasmanian devil, he leaps to food-laden counter tops and devours meals prepared for a party of ten. He annihilates motorized toys, treasured books, and even intricately carved wooden items from foreign countries. (Yes, I'm still a tad bitter!) This six pound varmint terrorizes toddlers and consistently creates chaos. So why, you ask, does he still have a home with us?
He's unaware of the havoc he causes. His joyful play is our utter destruction. And the destruction will someday cease - at least that is what I keep telling myself. This seemingly evil creature cuddles in my arms and literally leans in for hugs. I've never witnessed an animal doing that! While leaning his head into me, he carefully wraps his front arms around mine - a true hug.
While recovering from two surgeries last summer that left me immobilized for several weeks, this puppy provided much comfort. He entertained me during the day as he chased the light from a laser pen or tried to bite balls that were much too big for his terrier-sized mouth. During the nights while everyone else dozed comfortably in their beds unaware of my pain and discomfort, Gruder kept me company, licking my arm or whimpering when I moved or groaned with pain. He seemed to understand that I was healing and needed a constant companion.
They told me, "It's not a good time to get a puppy!" and "Wait until you recover, and then get one." They told me the animal would be too much trouble for me to take care of right now. They said the boys would not help take care of him, and that it would be too much to ask of them even if they were willing.
I'm so glad I didn't listen
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