Get a Husky, They Said

We got a puppy a few months after our old boy passed in January.

We thought it was time.

I guess we thought our lives were too calm, clean, and comfortable, so why not add a puppy?

Plus, we thought we could curb Libby’s assholiness if we gave her a little one to focus her attention.

We were wrong.

So very wrong.

We didn’t need a puppy.

We needed a lobotomy.

We’re older now. We no longer have what it takes to chase puppies in the throes of youthful dumbassery.

I mean, what kind of idiots bring an infant into their home when they’re nearing retirement?

Even Libby is asking WTF, man

And why did we involve her in this mess?

And what time do we eat?

This is Hank’s fall-in-love-with-me-I’m-cuter-than-a-bunny face.

He looks sweet, right? Cuddly and lovable, too.

He is not sweet. He is not lovable. He is definitely not cuddly.

He’s a terrorist.

An instigator.

Plus, he’s bitey. Way bitey.

Look at him. Just look.

This is how he ropes you in.

Pretty blue eyes.

We’ve never had a dog with blue eyes before. I didn’t even know that was a thing.

Puppy waggles.

Who can resist puppy waggle-butts?

Sweet sighs and puppy breath.

I mean, come on, man!

Chasing bunnies in his dreams.

Cuteness overload.

Do not fall for it!

We fell for this face.

Now we need counseling and a home equity loan.

Plus, now I need a new job. I can’t work from home anymore.

It’s too stressful being locked up with this monster all day.

Hank can't be good, no matter how hard he tries. Video source: youtube.com

Don’t let anyone tell you that raising good dogs is not like raising good humans.

They are one and the same.

So don’t listen to those people.

They’ve obviously never raised a dog that didn’t hike it on the corner of the sofa or rifle through the trash. Or chase the mail carrier. Or dig up the backyard.

I don’t know, maybe their kids piss on the furniture and knock over trash cans, too?

Life With Hank

I am on constant poop patrol. Every morning I suit up like the first day back at work after the initial two-week Covid lockdown.

I hazmat like nobody’s business.

The poop, it is everywhere.

(There he goes. I had to pee so he pooped in the living room...)

So much poop.

You’d think he’d learn by now to let me know when he has to go out.

But, no.

Husky’s don’t bark. Did you know that? I mean, they can bark, they just don’t bark.

Not unless there’s food involved.

Also? Husky’s are destructive little bastards.

New furniture? You don’t need it.

That beautiful area rug you paid a thousand bucks for?

“It needed more design, Mom, so I fixed it.

“You’re welcome.”

Toilet paper? Streamers, you mean.

It never ends with the toilet paper around here.

The bathroom door remains shut at all times.

Better know before you open that door. No telling what business you’ll run into .

Hank digs holes in the backyard.

One is halfway to China.

Who needs Amazon Prime when Hank can just go fetch it for us?

He plows through my flowers.

He’s almost completely ruined my Echinacea.

He rips branches off my lilac bushes.

In fact, he won’t stay out of my lilac bushes. At all.

I have no life. I can’t write. I can’t do laundry. I can’t clean the house. I mean what’s the point?

I can’t even leave the house for any reason unless I take his furry little butt with me.

Or lock him in his kennel. 🥺

He won’t leave Libby alone.

No remorse. Video source: youtube.com

Plus, he got a new ball. No, I mean literally.

We thought we were going to have to pay the vet another $150 to open him up when she neuters him.

You know, kind of a spayter or a neuy, where she goes on a treasure hunt to find the other testicle?

But, he dropped that other ball a couple weeks ago.

Now he won’t quit trying to teabag Libby.

“ Hey, look at these. They’re brand new.”

Oy.

Hey, did I mention he won’t leave the toilet paper alone?

Hank will not stay out of the toilet paper and even I can’t keep a straight face! Video source: youtube.com

But then he goes and does cute things like this:

And then this:

And this:

So here’s the thing.

We love him.

I mean we stinken can’t get enough of him.

The kind of love that lasts forever.

He’s sweet. And lovable. And cute like a bunny.

I know. We’re suckers. Pure and simple.

But hey, he’s going to be a good dog.

Not today.

But someday, he’ll be a good dog

This article was previously published here.