We got our new puppy Friday night! Jon decided on a breeder six hours away in Bad Axe, Michigan. We’ve spent the last month trying to determine whether we want a female or male. We opted for a male because we had good luck with Cy and the majority of the last twenty sights I viewed opined that male labs were better than females. Then we spent days trying to decide whether to get a light one or darker one. Pathetic. By the time Jon went to get him on Friday afternoon, I gladly turned the choice over to him.

He Face Timed me for a few minutes when he got there so I saw the yellow one and the white one. They were both adorable, of course. Jon spent an hour running around with them before he chose our honey boy.

He was the most mellow of the group; he didn’t bark a lot and was just playful enough. He whimpered just a tiny bit on the way home for Jon. The kids and I waited anxiously on the front lawn waiting for the newest member of our clan. We rushed the truck when Jon pulled up. He opened the back door and there was this little chunk-a-lunk pumpkin seed boy curled up in his kennel. I did not expect him to be so small but I also didn’t realize he was only 7 weeks old. He flopped around in the grass and allowed all of us to pet his belly and rub him all over. His eyes are little almonds and his puppy fur slightly hangs over them. He’s got a honey waxy coat with patches of light streaked throughout his tiny body. He’s got the shiniest black pads on his paws and when he lays down on his belly and spreads out his legs, we all melt. In sum, he’s gorgeous….
And he’s tiring. I stayed up with him all night just like I did with the kids when they were newborns. I went to sleep at midnight. He whined a bit and I of course stayed up to surf the net about crate training. I fell asleep only to be awoken at 1:30 to more whining. I waited until he stopped and then I got him out of his crate to go outside. He peed and I was ecstatic (just like I used to get when Ri and Mario burped – what a life!). I crated him immediately and heard nothing. Alleluia. I went upstairs and checked on the crew who were all sleeping soundly. I woke Jon and he told me to just go to bed. But I was awake because I heard him whimpering. I went downstairs and laid on the couch waiting for him to stop. He finally stopped about fifteen minutes later. I woke him at 4 am and took him out again and he pooped. And pooped. And dragged his butt on the ground. And dragged it again. I’ve had too many dogs to not know that’s a sign for the dreaded worms. Sure enough, I walked back in with him at 4:15 and lifted up his tail and a little white worm was waving at me. I was at once disgusted and validated.
I went upstairs to tell Jon who was anything but caring at 4:15 am, and laid in bed beside him hoping worms weren’t lethal (knowing very well they weren’t but having nothing more to fret about).

The kids woke at 6:15 ready to see their pup. We took him outside as the sun was slowly rising and watched him do his business. The kids tumbled around with him and held him like a baby. They are already seriously hooked. Jon and I met eyes and didn’t have to speak. It’s happening all over again. Interrupted nights, early mornings, constant pee breaks… just when we had the kids potty trained and fairly independent we turn back the clock. But it’s all worth it.