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Lipstick and Legos: Fido? 'Fi-oh-heck-no.'
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29 October 2016   Holli Maurer

Lipstick and Legos – Fido? How about, “Fi-oh-heck-no.”


247 minutes. That’s how long our family had our new dog last Wednesday. Single parents: listen to me. Actually, every one listen! A dog is not a blessing, is not fun, and is not a wise decision. I thought that it was a great idea at the time; at about 4:59 p.m. on Wednesday before I picked her up.

I answered an ad on Facebook from a stating that he was moving and needed to place all his Chihuahuas. I fell in love (so gross) with Khloe Kardashian. For real, that was her name. Perhaps the first red flag should have been the name, no? That alone should have screamed “high maintenance, moody and perhaps a little misbehaved,” but I chose to take her on anyway. 

I had prepared for the day by buying the pup a new exercise pen, bag of dog food, new pink leopard collar, new pink leopard leash, fluffy pink hooded sweatshirt (because, yes) and also the tiniest little red Kong I’d ever seen. The directions said to put peanut butter and a dog bone in it and it would provide “hours of fun.” The explanation alone totally annoyed me. If I was a dog, and my person gave me a little tiny rubber toy filled with peanut butter, I’d be SO MAD. The trip to PetsMart set me back $186. Super. I punched in Ex’s phone number for some great PetsMart Perks; it took $7 off. I think asked if I could just “put it on his account.” Nope – apparently it’s not a charge account and the cashier frowned at me. It was a worth a shot. (Side note: Dear Ex, it’s me. I am the one who is stealing your fuel points every month from Safeway. Why? Because I feel like it’s the least you could do. I used to steal my parent’s, but now my sister does that, so I’ve moved to the you).

I met Facebook dog couple at the park by my house. The dog was the size of a New York rat. She was literally less than two pounds. Little came with me and instantly fell in love with her. We brought her home to meet Chi #2, who has lived with us since March. Our current Chi’s name is Remy, after the rat in Ratoutille; see the trend? We threw her into the sink to bathe her; the previous owners had drowned her in so much perfume that I was starting to have an asthma attack. She flailed about in the sink, getting suds everywhere and splashing all over the kitchen counters. Little loved every moment, and started scooping soap suds out and blowing them all over the house. I asked him repeatedly to stop, and he continued to run around the house doing it. The fun ended when he dropped his Kindle Fire into the soapy water. With Little screaming, I dragged soppy Khloe and Kindle out of the bath and onto the counter.

Bathtub drama over, Little and Big demanded dinner. I put the Chi Duo in their exercise pen so that I wouldn’t have to wonder if they were up to no good as I tried to prepare our meals. It lasted about three minutes. I had three minutes of silence (out of the previously stated 247 that this dog was with our fine family) that these two dogs were silent. The other times there were high pitched Chi screams, whining, and digging into the metal exercise pen. Turns out Khloe didn’t seem to have that large of a brain. She spent senseless hours digging into the pen to get out, and the pen was on a tile floor. I wasn’t really sure of her teenie mental capacity; and what was super annoying was that she kept twisting her body over and over into little tiny Chi circles. Over. And. Over. Again. You guys, this is fine – it’s even cute – one or two times. But repeatedly over and over literally made me want to seek out vodka and drown my sorrows.

Little demanded that I come build Lego towers with him in his room, so I packed up the Chi Duo and put them in the room with us with a baby gate in his doorway so that they couldn’t get out. The moment I sat down, Khloe squatted and peed in front of me. I yelled for Big and told him to get me carpet cleaner. Big and I got into an argument about how a new puppy brought added tasks, and I thought my biggest victory from the whole conversation would be this: “with great power comes great responsibility.” Big stared at me in silence and then burst out laughing and told me that I could NOT use Spiderman movie quotes in our arguments. At that same moment, Khloe had a massive explosion of diarrhea on Little’s carpet. Little lost it.

Immediately after cleaning the carpet in Little’s room - which may I add, I did between curse words ranging from mildly inappropriate to horribly offensive - I began to wonder if this was the smartest choice. I relocated Khloe from Little’s room to the exercise pen on the tile. In less than 30 seconds, Khloe had dug her way to open the exercise pen door and had a second round of diarrhea on the living room carpet and on the couch.

My fingers could not dial fast enough. I called the owner of the puppy back. The conversation started like this, “Um, yeah hi. Did you say that this puppy was pee pad trained?” I twirled around and looked the Khloe. She was literally shredding her pee pad WHILE SQUATTING on my floor. If stupid were a canine, it would be Khloe. The owner said that he “accidentally” told me wrong information and that the dog had “seen” the pee pads but wasn’t trained. ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLRIGHT. Minor detail. I told him that he had to take the dog back, like NOW. We agreed to meet.

Little goes to bed at 8 p.m.; if he does not, I’m afraid he will melt into a million little pieces, or he will spontaneously combust. Trust me when I tell you I’m genuinely afraid to find out. The dog owner wanted to meet at 9 p.m. at the bank. I loaded Big and Little into the car and when I told Little we had to take Khloe home, he shrieked WHAT?! from the back seat in the most heartbreaking voice ever. I explained to the best of my ability why, and Little continued to cry and in between sobs would interject his best put downs he could think of. My favorite was this, word for word, “Mom, can I tell you something about my heart? You shattered it into a million little pieces and you’re nothing more than poop in a toilet.” I felt like the worst mother in the world.

I gave the dog back at 9:07 p.m.; Little sobbed the entire time. I had a pit in my stomach and got back in the car to face Big and Little. Neither one of them would look at me. I drove the Maverick station to get gas and gave them each $2 and sent them into the store holding each other’s hand. I pumped gas and got in the car by myself, thinking about how wrong the decision was. As I looked up, Little was skipping alongside Big, and he was…smiling? Big was…laughing? They got in the car and showed me their loot. Little chose a lollipop that turned his whole mouth dark blue, and Big had selected an energy drink. (Listen, I know it’s after 9 pm, don’t judge me. I just gave away the kids' puppy.) It was as if the Maverick station was a magical vortex that had turned my childrens mood revealing two totally different boys.

Ever since Khloe came and went 8 days ago, neither child has uttered one word of the missing “love of their lives.” What they HAVE mentioned is how much they love their current animals; both Remy and the infamous vomiting cat. My advice is this: don’t mess with a good thing. If you currently have a pet that is housebroken, do not get another. It’s a mistake. It’s like waking up one morning with an infant. NO! BAD idea! To the idea of another dog I say, Fido? Fi-Oh-Heck-No. Keep your lives simple and pee pad free. Do it for your own sanity. 

 
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