Dear Charlie Pasta,
You came right to me.
You chose me.
Out of all your equally adorable little brothers and sisters, you stumbled your way to me. I didn’t want an orange and white Brittany, I wanted a liver (chocolate) and white. But your little face won me over. Thank goodness you couldn’t see very well yet because I was a fright having just spend several days taking care of a sick toddler. I don’t even think I showered the day we met.
You were barely a month old but I knew I wanted you too.
My God, what I was thinking?!
I was so insistent on adding you to our family, I literally begged and pleaded with Todd for months! Oh yeah, I hate to break it to you but your BFF didn’t want a dog. He fights to keep you now, so you’re safe.
Over the last six months you have tried my patience beyond belief and we are still struggling to find some common ground.
You’re a puppy, I get it, but for the love of all the leaves and birds you chase in our backyard, the holes you enjoy digging so much, the chicken flavored treats you adore, the dirty socks you hoard and all the rounds of fetch I have played with you, please calm the fuck down!!
We have been told that your breed is an “energetic” one, that you require lots of exercise, thrive on having a task and find it difficult to relax. You and I should be getting along famously because that describes me to a T.
Alas, we don’t.
Yet.
I know we’ll turn a corner soon and until then, I’ll try to have more patience with you, my sweet little freckle faced friend.
As long as you keep looking at me with a cock-eyed head when it’s 2 minutes past your feeding time and the lower half of your body shakes to one side when you wag your tail, I’ll keep taking you on long walks, searching high and low for more challenging (and indestructible) toys and picking up your poop. Deal?
In spite of our similarities, I love you and all the fury, frustration and fun you have brought to our family.
You have never cared what I look like or if Iām happy, sad, sick or frazzled. You chose me.
Love,
Me
P.S. In the middle of writing this, I left you outside unsupervised for five minutes and you dug a hole, asshole!
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Love it! Especially the P.S.!!!! Can’t stop laughing! I remember you begging Todd for a dog š Chalie Pasta is gorgeous! xoxo
I’m laughing so hard, I’m crying. Ohhhh, can I relate. When we got our dog from the animal shelter… my husband picked her out. We took her to the animal shelter’s backyard so we could see her outside of the cage. Greg asked me, “What do you think? Can we bring her home?” My answer should have warned me, “Sure, if you can catch her!” She’s crazy wild, high energy – we literally have to “RUN” the dog about 7 times at night before she can settle down. Not walk, that’s not good enough. Run her with a frisbee or lazer lights. This dog is nuts, but she’s loveable š
Like all love stories, there is well, love, exasperation, and yes, holes dug. Also, poop.
What a cutie pie. š
Hehe. Charlie Pasta is my favorite pet name. EVER.
It’s amazing how they can frustrate us to no end, but one look with that cock eyed head and it all washes away.
Oh this is so sweet. Then I got to the ps about him being an asshole and I snorted my diet coke. So cute!
The PS is fantastic! Puppy love is a love/hate relationship. If you haven’t heard of it yet, check out Dogshaming.com. It’s hilarious and should make you feel even better about Charlie Pasta.
There is so much I could say about having a puppy.
But instead I’ll just say I feel your pain.