Chester the dog ruins life as we know it

Kevin and I had the brilliant idea of fulfilling a long-wished-for-wish this Christmas by getting a dog for the kids. It seemed like such a good idea--full of hope and promise and goodwill. I won't say we weren't warned by other dog owners. We were. But we went boldly on ahead and purchased a chesadoodle puppy (he is cross between and poodle and a chesapeake bay retriever. I am not entirely convinced that is even a "real" breed of dog. He was also a bit of a "clearance" puppy. He was the last of the litter to go, his breeder needed to get rid of him and we got what in the buying-a-puppy-with-a-special-breed-name-world would be a good deal. I know, there are several potential red flags there. But we needed a dog that was bred to not be a shedder and we also needed an inexpensive dog. So a clearance chesadoodle it was).

The kids were beyond thrilled and it was so fun to see them excited and running outside with this adorable puppy they named Chester. The goodwill was flowing.

 

And then we went to bed. And Chester, who was not quite 8 weeks old, woke us up all night long. Three nights later I was ready to list him for sale. Five nights and several incompetent bladder episodes later and I listed him on craigslist. I was convinced that we had made a terrible decision and I was willing to break the kids' hearts to change it.

So I stared in the face of all that cuteness and wrote an ad about this adorable and good natured puppy (I left out the incompetent bladder part) who needed to go to a family with a mom that wasn't going to lose her mind trying to housetrain a dog and get him to sleep all night.

 

After we had a buyer a family meeting was called and despite our suggestions of taking a trip together with the money from Chester's sale or buying something else (preferably something inanimate) Ada, in her 5 year old wisdom, delcared that all those things would only last a day, but Chester would be here forever. And with that, she sealed my fate.

Chester is sleeping on my lap right now. His crate is taking up precious kitchen space. His bladder is still less than competent (although improving). But he has redeemed himself by sleeping all night...and by falling asleep in my lap...and by being excited to see the kids come home from school...and by cocking his head to the side when he hears a noise...and by trotting along beside me when I take him for a run. I freely admit he is a bad decision I think I am glad we made (but I will tell you for sure when he is fully housetrained and doesn't require an early morning potty outing and stops eating our shoes and the kitchen rug).

 

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