Nine Months

I didn’t want dogs because I wanted children. Children aren’t as hairy and my dogs will never learn English.

Dogs don’t date, and they don’t mean I need to save for their university tuition. My dogs will never hang out in Osborne Village with torn jackets, rolling with a rough crowd pretending to be a homeless kid and then steal home at all hours of the night to raid my fridge.

My dogs will come upstairs to visit me when I’m reading blogs. They will fight to sit on my lap, and then watch intently as the computer screen changes while I type. My dogs read your blog. My children probably won’t.

My dogs, in spite of their size, will steal butter off the kitchen counters. It involves Schipperke stacking, but I’ve seen it done. They will tear around my in-laws place at full speed barking and jumping and hiding. My Schip’s will hide behind and under our huge claw foot tub. They steal my husband’s toques.

They sit in the picture window and bark at the house down the street that has puppies inside it – because even though the puppies aren’t in the yard, they still get the message. They sit in the picture window, hiding behind the curtains with just their heads sticking out and try to steal food out of my hands by popping out as I’m about to take a bite of toast. My dogs sit in the picture window and rest their heads on my shoulders, watching TV with me or examining my knitting.

My dogs know if my last row was knit or purl.

Sometimes, when I’m bundling them up in their snowsuits, snapping them into their car harnesses, or hearing my family refer to them as “The Boys” I feel like I’m in a little over my head. Like I’m being launched forward into some future world where we have babies and car seats and I have to worry about winter maternity wear.

Then one of them bites the other, or loses a puppy boot and I remind myself to calm down – they’re only dogs, thank goodness!

New Tricks in Month Nine:

  • When it’s deemed too cold to go for a walk by the puppies (-35° C and colder), Mal flips onto his back and refuses to walk. After dragging him for 1 – 2 houses I always end the walk….because I don’t want the neighbors to think I’m an animal abuser.