Yeah so we caved, kinda of sorta. We had been talking about it for a while. It’s a bit of a selfish conversation born out of our pending sadness. Nothing lasts forever. The conversations got more serious, more detailed. Plans were hatched, lists made. Then, finally, after months of bullying and harassment by unnamed people (Amy & Rachel), we caved in and did it.

In the immortal words of DJ Khaled, and another one. No not the dirty copier machine you mutts. The dog. We got another dog. Adopted another rescue I should say. Orville to be precise. A 3-month-old Retriever/Springer Spaniel/Terrier mix. We think. Hard to tell with these rescues who just get abandoned on the side of a road or tossed over a fence at an animal shelter.

He may grow to be a killer, but hey at least he’s cute as a button now. And he rings the bells hanging from the front door when he wants to go out. That gives the cute impression that he is house broken, until you realize he’s peed and crapped himself all the way to said bells. What are you gonna do? Make the kids clean it up that’s what. Who says it’s a sad day when your toddlers grow up?

So now we have Milo and Orville. Solid names all the way around. No cute pic of the two of them sitting with-in close enough proximity to each other if that tells you anything about how Milo is adjusting to his new kid brother. Milo is happiest when Orville is in his crate.

The crate has been the clear marker the two dogs are different. Milo spent 38 minutes in his crate and has slept on the bed ever since. Orville naps in his and since the half of the family with no spine is in Europe, I’ve been crating that little prick every night. Guess who’s sleeping like a baby this week and last? No not the dog. Well maybe he is who knows. He’s downstairs in his crate. Me. I’m sleeping like a baby, a stone, a dead man and what have you.

The dog makes not one peep. When I come down to spring him for the day, he’s lying there staring through the bars waiting for his meal period like a convict resigned to his incarceration, waiting for yard time. So, in that respect he’s been much easier as a puppy than Milo was. We just don’t remember what a pain in the tuckus Milo was when he was a puppy because it seems like he grew into a member of the family so quickly. That could not be furthest from the truth. We have all hardwood floors because of Milo.

Thanks to those hardwood floors, Orville clean-up is so much easier. In Orville’s defense he is getting better. He’s still a puppy.

And if he keeps to his lights out by 10p prison sleep schedule, he may eve get to stay.