Catch Up

I've sat down to play catch up on my blog about five times in the past week, but I never quite make it all the way to there. I'm not sure how much of it is being too busy to write and how much is just not really having much to say. (I know, very un-Beck-like.)

Speaking of un-Beck-like, last night I was lying in bed talking to David, and I kept being unable to retrieve from my brain the words I needed. We were talking about Trinitarianism and baptism (no, this is not normal fare for our late night conversing). I had a thought in my head, but I kept mangling it as I tried to put it into words. Fortunately, David is smart enough that he only needs minor prompts and can figure the rest out himself, so he put into words exactly what I was trying to say. (See why I married him?)

I then started to tell him something else, but it just seemed like too much trouble.

I said, "That's it; I've run out of words for today."

He was shocked and, I dare say, a little pleased.

With any luck, a little sleep should have refueled my word-tank, so let me tell you about the biggest change in our household in the past few weeks.

W got a dog.

Yes, you read that right. If you've been reading my blog for a long time, you may remember the Hearsay fiasco. Suffice it to say, our last attempt at becoming dog-owners proved short-lived.

But since I'm a slow learner, I thought we'd try it again.

The new dog's name is Shadow, but I'm thinking we should have named him Greased Lightning. He's fast.

He sees a crack in the baby gate blocking the stairs, and he bolts like lightning. He sees a sock lying unprotected in a corner, and he's as hard to catch as a greased pig. Heaven help you if you drop a stuffed animal or a pair of underwear from the laundry basket.

I assume he needs to chew simply because he's a puppy. I choose to believe this because it means a.) he will grow out of it someday and b.) he will grow out of it someday. He will grow out of it someday, right?

How sad is it that I found myself trying to outwit him this morning. He had chewed up all of his rawhides and was completely uninterested in his rope toy, so when I was at the grocery store I picked up a couple more rawhides and a new rubber toy.

But I'm no fool.

I know he has no interest in toys that he's allowed to have, toys made for dogs. He wants Lauren's baby dolls and Josh's G.I. Joes and my curtains. So, instead of giving him the new rubber toy, I nonchalantly knocked it off the counter, and then when he started to pick it up, I took it from him and acted like he wasn't supposed to have it.

I know, I know, this will probably undermine efforts to train him, but I was desperate. I really needed to unload my dishwasher.

So, after I took it from him a few times I threw it into the living room, and he darted after it and chewed on it for more than ten minutes.

My name is Becky, and I am smarter than a dog.