Much to my surprise, I've fallen completely in love with the little pile of fluff BabyGirl named Buddy Joe. After Andrew's death this summer, I decided Lilly May would be our last house dog until after the kids were grown & gone. Since she's only 4 years old, she should still be around for quite a few more years. I didn't need anymore heart break.
When Husband started plotting with BabyGirl about a Chihuahua last fall, I emphatically told them both "Over my cold dead body." I do not like Chihuahuas. Not at all. When they started plotting again with out a breed in mind, I was tentative. I really didn't want to house break/crate train/get used to another dog.
I'm happy with my Lilly. She's playful. She's sturdy. She's protective. She's active. She's loving. I'm good.
Then came Buddy. It was obvious from the beginning that he knew who the mama was around here. He was over the moon too see me in the mornings. He napped curled on my lap. He followed me around like a second shadow. He brought his toys for me to play fetch with. BabyGirl wasn't really thrilled at first, but he's warmed up to her in the past week. Now she comes a close second to me in his affections.
A few minutes ago, I was catching up on some blog reading & realized I had no idea where Buddy was. Since he's not so good at the pooping-outside-unless-reminded thing, I got worried. Just as I rolled my chair away from the computer desk, I realized he was curled up underneath it, at my feet....where Andrew spent most of his time.
He likes to sleep in the "nest" made by my legs when I curl up on the couch....like Andrew did. He runs & romps with Lilly May...which Andrew didn't really have the energy to. While not a replacement for Andrew (no dog will ever fill that weiner shaped hole in my heart), Buddy Joe is making his place in our family. He has big paws to fill, and he's going to do it in his own way.