The Four-Legged Family Member

     Beautiful Bald Husband and I adopted an adorable small puppy over eight years prior from a litter. This was pre-children, pre-motherhood, pre-responsibility. We had a dog already, a super rad Basset mix named Pablo. BUT, my raging baby-makin hormones encouraged this adoption non-the-less.  He was adorable! But, he grew... and grew... and grew. Our sweet puppy, Theo, was a Labrador Rottweiler mix (heavy on the rottie). So, there we were tiny house (800 sq ft.) and two giant dogs.

This is Pablo (taken about a week before he passed on):

 

And this is Theo:

     Once Larger Child came in to our lives, the giant dogs in the tiny house ended up being the giant dogs in the backyard of the tiny house. A couple of years later, we moved in to a larger house, and the dogs rejoined us. To make a very long hair filled story short, BBH and I made a decision that once these dogs move on to their next lives, we will only have one pet at a time, and that pet will be small.
    Fast forward a few years, our sweet Pablo passed away shortly after moving in to the larger house, and our darling Theo moved on to that big beautiful farm in the sky about a year ago as well. I loved these dogs! I loved having big dogs that you could hug with both arms! I loved the feeling of protection and strength they gave me! BUT, I also hated the hair, the crowded feeling, the discomfort when house guests came, seventy gazillion pounds of dog food consumed on a weekly basis, the back yard clean up after seventy gazillion pounds of dog food consumed, etc.
    Picture this: I have just given birth to Smaller Child about a eight weeks prior, my hormones are still cooky, I am still a sleep deprived, spit up covered mess, and my dog, my amazing-stick-by-me-through-everything dog, the one who woke me up in the mornings, stayed by my side when I was up at night, and thought he was a tiny lap dog though he weighted close to 90 lbs dog passes away quickly from cancer. I AM A MESS. I allow myself to be a mess for about a week, then I cannot take the empty (HA! There are FOUR people in the house now) feeling of the home, and the lack of four legged companionship. So, I start scouting the petfinder websites and ASPCA ads.
    One day I find an ad for a "yorkie mix" puppy. She is 10 weeks old, and has her shots, is spayed and available for adoption through ASPCA. On a whim, BBH takes me and the kids to the adoption center to see her. (I think BBH couldn't stand to see me heartbroken and petless. He knew what he was getting in to though, even though I was too blind to see it. I am telling you, the man is a saint.)
     Enter Olivia into our already crazy lives.
    

  
      She's pretty cute, huh?  Yeah, we thought so too! This was the day we brought her home from the ASPCA. She was all clumsy and affectionate, she smelled like puppy and just loved Larger Child to pieces! She was 10 weeks old when we adopted her. So was Smaller Child. I thought there was something really poetic in that. Come to find out the word I was looking for was actually psychotic, not poetic. I can see how I got those two words confused now.
     WHAT WAS I THINKING?? Who among you would think it wise to adopt a new puppy when you have just had a baby a little more than two months prior? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Yeah, I thought not. BUT, despite some tears, and some major headaches, we managed to make it though, maybe a little worse for the wear, but we are all still around.
     Today Olivia is eight months old. She is... different than expected.  I am not sure what I expected. But, Olivia has definitely defied just about everything I thought. Well, maybe a picture would explain. Remember sweet puppy Olivia? Well, this is her now.

Yeaaah, different kind of like that. Poor girl's got a face only a mother could love. I call her "Special." It's ironic really, the ASPCA said she was a Dachshund and Yorkie mix. Apparently this is a new trendy cross bread. Kind of like the labradoodle they call them "Dorkies" seems REALLY fitting.
     I have never had a tiny dog. I assumed I would get one of those "stick them in your purse, carry them around in cute little outfits" kind of dogs.  Not so much. Again, ironically Olivia thinks she is the 90 lb rottie that my rottie did not think he was. We have wild turkeys at our house, she tires to scare them off. They just look at her with amusement. She tries to intimidate strangers with her "vicious bark" I have never seen anyone do anything more than laugh.
     She is squirrel-ly and wiggly, she is smelly and strange. She's a bug hunter, and one of the fastest dogs I have ever seen. (Not a good trait when you are trying to get them in their crate.) I can't really hug her with both arms, she's too teeny and she wouldn't let me if I tried, but the yard is much cleaner. For a tiny dog, she can sure take up a LOT of space in the house, on the couch, in the bed.  BUT she is our dog/rat/thing. And we (I at least) love her.