One day. One whole day’s worth.

That’s how much freedom I got to experience with the start of school. Well, technically, it was a day and a half.

But that doesn’t matter; what’s important is that I’m an idiot.

The details of my descent into dementia aren’t really relevant.

Okay, one detail is totally relevant. And will explain EVERYTHING.

Just LOOK at that. How can you be mad at a puppy? Especially one that cute, even when she steals all your freedom and chews on your coffee table and pees on your favorite couch quilt when the kids put it on the floor for her to cuddle on?

No, the above photo is NOT of Callie, our (late) wonderful first dog. Although I can see why you might think so.

(If I believed in reincarnation … and if this new pup hadn’t been born a month BEFORE Callie died … I might be really suspicious.)

Anyway, say hello to Tess, our new puppy.

On Friday afternoon, after the kids’ second full day of school, I picked everyone up and we drove to get her.

Tess had come over for a “home visit” on Thursday, and it took everything in me not to adopt her on the spot. But the Humane Society had paid for her shots and she had one scheduled for Friday and I had a coffee date that I didn’t think it’d be good to bring an unknown puppy to. So we waited and got her Friday afternoon.

The Chronicles of Tess:
The Towel, the Kids, and the Potty Spot

Friday night/Saturday: Tess was timid and afraid of Bob and Scruff. Bob was curious and confused. Scruff was cranky and growly. Tess was so afraid that anytime we wanted her to go through a door, we had to pick her up. All 27 pounds of her. Otherwise, she’d just sit and stare at us.

Sunday: When we left for church, we locked Tess in her crate. She was there for a couple hours, but she had a Kong toy (big indestructible hard rubber hollow oval) full of peanut butter. I suspect she never noticed that we were gone.

That afternoon, as I sat on the floor with her and Scruff, I let her pester him mercilessly. He growled and bared his teeth and ran away for awhile, then chased her down and put her in her place. I allowed all of this because it made me laugh hysterically. But it actually made Scruff less cranky and skittish around Tess in general. Go figure. Fun (for me and Tess) AND beneficial.

Monday: I delivered the kids to school like I usually do — accompanied by Bob and Scruff. Tess did NOT come along because of the aforementioned peeing that I didn’t want to occur on my lap in the SUV. So she spent the 20 minutes that I was gone crying to Charlie of the disappearance of her new pack. And even after I got home, she spent the day puzzled.

We spent a lot of time outside that day, where she focused on finding her new favorite potty spot. She soon settled on the patch of vinca vines right by my front porch.

And so, just like Callie in her final year, Tess has already filled my life with the aroma of poo. This also means that for her, high vegetation = potty spot.

And for some reason, quilts and towels and throw rugs in the house remind her of high vegetation.

I washed a few loads of unplanned laundry on Monday.

Monday night: Tess discovered that Scruff actually liked to play. After dinner, he walked up, turned around, put his butt in her face, and growled over his shoulder. Then he did that thing that boy dogs do after peeing? You know, where they kind of moonwalk/scratch the ground with their hind legs? Tess cowered at first, but soon she went on the offensive: She stuck her head under Scruff (the only part of her that can actually FIT under Scruff) and gnawed on his legs. So he whirled around and attacked her face. Then she raised one of her mammoth paws, bringing it down on his little paw-size head and flattening him onto the floor. Then they took off running and scratching and skidding and sliding and falling all over the house. (Technically, that was all Tess. Scruff ran a lot less like a toddler and kept his feet under him.) They did this for hours.

Tuesday: I caved in and brought Tess along for the morning dropoff. She hid on the floor of the backseat, under the girls’ backpacks. Until the girls got out of the car and DISAPPEARED. She tried to climb up front. Then I dropped off LC. Suddenly Tess REALLY wanted to ride on my lap. I managed to contain her to the front passenger seat. Mostly. Except for the mammoth front paws that stretched across and smooshed my arm.

Also, since I felt pity for Scruff being displaced by the puppy, I let him ride on my lap for the 3-mile drive home.

(I know, two dogs in the front seat = risky. But I drive on these country roads past loads of people with dogs on their laps. Some even with livestock. Like sheep. Or a rooster on the steering wheel. A country fact of life. It’s like seeing a tractor lumbering down the road. You just slow down and give it a wide berth.)

Anyway, we came home and Tess spent the day chasing Scruff and finding things to chew on that she wasn’t supposed to and taking long naps.

For all my whining, I’m having a blast with the new addition to our family. You just can’t stay mad at a puppy – even after she pees on your bathroom rug – because you’re too busy laughing at her reaction to seeing herself (and another MOM???!!!!) in the full-length mirror.

Any doubts? Look at this:

GAAA. I’m hopeless.