Lessons Learned From a 6-Pound Dog

I am a parent of two children, 10 years apart.  My son is 21, my daughter is 11.  Two weeks ago my son went on a trip and asked us to watch his puppy, a 6-month-old chihuahua mix (we don't know what he's mixed with.) Not being a dog person, I tried to explain to my son that I'm not a big fan of shedding. Scooping poop? Um, no thank you. I was not interested in changing my schedule in order to let the dog in and out and I certainly did not have extra time in my life for trips to the vet and the pet store. However, the mother in me felt bad for the dog.  I didn't want him to have to go to a stranger's house. He's very cute and sweet and little. If I were interested in having a dog, he would be the one. But, as I mentioned, I am really not a dog person.

My daughter, bless her heart, totally rose to the occasion. She sat on the floor next to his food dish so he would stay there and eat. She took him out every morning and night. Bathtime was a blast for both of them as she stood over the sink getting soaking wet and loving every minute of it. They ran around outside and played until they couldn't stand up anymore.  

Two weeks went by in a hurry. Every time I sat at the computer, little Bandit would curl up on my lap and lick my arm (which I find very disgusting ... yet endearing.) When any of us came home from work or school that dog would get so excited as if he had an audience with God himself. He loved us unconditionally and reminded us how important it is to play with each other. Bandit is a really cool dog (except for when he pooped under the piano bench.)

After his trip, big brother came and took the dog back to his apartment. Little sister is broken hearted and can't wait till we babysit for him again July. The big surprise? I cried when the dog left. He snuck his way right into my heart. While my daughter was off with her activities and my husband was working, Bandit cuddled with me and made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. I guess I AM a dog person. Who knew?