I did it! I finally got a dog of my own! He is the cutest thing that has ever walked the earth!!! Every night my mum and brother would go off to their respective rooms, with their dogs in tow and now I finally get to be part of the ritual!!!
When I was 8 my dad told me that when I turned 12 I could get a puppy. I’m pretty sure he said this one afternoon to get me to shut up, thinking I would quickly forget. I did not. On my 12th birthday I expected to receive a puppy. I did not. I have been bitter ever since. I have been waiting for this for 14 years, that is 10 years too long Dad!
(^please know I am both serious and joking, my dad is wonderful and he gave my brother and I more than we could have ever needed… including getting my brother a puppy for his 12th birthday, just not me)
I always wanted a big dog, like a Bernese Mountain Dog or a Golden Retriever, but I don’t have time to walk those guys enough. Plus, they don’t live as long as little dogs. Alas, I went with the breed I know well. The Shih-poo. My mum has two of them. They’re smart, don’t shed, only need a couple of walks a day and won’t hog the bed. A great starter dog.
I contacted the breeder in December, asking to be put on the waitlist for a Shih-poo puppy. Saying I would like a puppy and I would like it to be a boy. It wasn’t until May that I got confirmation that the puppies were born and there was one boy, if I wanted him, he could be mine.
This was a decision I did not take lightly, its around a 15 year commitment to keep a little creature not just alive, but happy, healthy and loved (the loved part is very easy). Knowing that I can’t keep a succulent alive and knowing that I like to travel a lot, I almost didn’t say yes. That being said, I knew that he would be my priority and I could make it work. I live by a philosophy that if somebody wants something badly enough, they will work until they make it happen. So, I decided I could do it. I said yes to my little man.
Fast forward to July 12th, 2017. The day I get my puppy.
12:00am: I finally decide on a name. Mo, then Bo, because Mo sounded too much like our other dog’s name, Mollly. But then Bo wasn’t badass enough. So, I googled ‘badass male characters’, and came across the name Rambo. Perfect! Rambo, and Bo for short.
9:00am: I go to work
11:30am: My mum picks up Rambo from the breeder at a meeting point in the city. I am still at work. I do not want to be at work anymore.
12:30pm: Mum sends me this photo of Rambo
12:31pm: I want to cry
4:00pm: Longest workday ever
5:00pm: I run out of the store I work at to my mum’s car where the cutest little ball of black fur is waiting for me with shy kisses!!!!!!
He is no longer shy, in fact he is an evil little psycho freak. And I love him even more for it!
Things that he does that I love: kisses my face, looks at me, breathes, walks, falls over, runs, runs so fast that he falls over, falls down the two steps to the grass in my backyard, jumps, curls up into a tiny ball, gets out of his crate (he’s so smart and evil), sleeps against my back, squeaks when he yawns, goes straight from being a maniac to being fast asleep, fights my dad’s dog that is 6x bigger than him, runs full speed into things, tries so hard for my mum’s two other dogs to love him even though they hate him, chases his tail for extended periods of time, digs as if he’s getting somewhere on the couch, gets excited to see me, gets jealous of my phone when I text, thinks he can’t get off of my bed, sleeps between my two pillows, sleeps with his tongue out, is so incredibly cute I want to cry, is the smallest thing ever, and he exists
Things that he does that I don’t love: bites my fingers, bites my hands, bites my lip, bites my neck, bites my arms, bites my eyelids (yeah), bites other people’s eyelids, bites my toes, tries to rip my hair out, pretends he’s not gonna bite me and then bites me, wakes me up at all hours of the night
As I type this he is running circles around an ant. Pretty sure he’s freaked out that something smaller than him is alive and moving.
I read somewhere that animals that have cuter offspring are less likely to eat/ kill their young. I get that, he’s so cute I think I would still love him if he committed murder. And I’d be decently impressed, his mouth is very small.
My father is concerned that I will never leave the house or make any new friends or ever find a man because I will be content with my little freak, Rambo. Its probably a valid concern.