We Braemel’s are insane. It’s been six years since we lost our beloved Storm, and we’ve missed her like crazy. So we all agreed that we wanted another dog. After a lot of discussions about the type of dog — dachshund or pug or shih tzu — on Tuesday night we welcomed a new member to the Braemel household.
I’m not sure his exact weight (I’ll know later this afternoon after a visit to the vet) but I think he can’t weigh more than about four pounds. He’ll only be about 15 pounds fully grown. The little fluff ball immediately bonded with Gizmo Guy — especially GG’s feet. And GG has bonded with the little guy too — they fell asleep together last night, with the little guy on GG’s lap. It was too cute.
We don’t have a name for the little guy yet but there have been a lot of suggestions tossed into the ring. We all said we didn’t want a standard name like Shadow or Snuffles. (Mischief would suit him but that’s the name of Guitar Hero’s girlfriend’s cat–too confusing to have two in the family.)
The moment we brought him in and put him on the floor, he put his nose to the ground and started snuffling the carpet as if it were a vacuum cleaner so Gizmo Guy suggested we call him Dyson (as opposed to Hoover). Yesterday, Curly suggested Samwise or Sam for short, since he’s short, got hairy feet and curly hair and will be faithful. Gizmo Guy ins’t sold on that name, and while I think it’s appropriate, I keep thinking “But my hero in Personal Protection is Sam and he’s a 6’6″ bodyguard. Besides we’re going to be getting this guy neutered–I can’t cut my Sam’s nuts off. That’s just wrong!” (And none of us like Frodo as a substitute.)
Curly also suggested Seamus, thinking of Seamus Finnigan from Harry Potter (he’s the kid who keeps accidentally blowing things up.) I think this one may stick since I can see this little guy getting into all sorts of mischief, and can even imagine he’d have an Irish accent if he could talk, LOL. (Yes, I know Shih Tzu’s are originally a Chinese dog but I’m a writer and have a vivid imagination so I can make him Irish if I want him to be. 😉 )
The first night of course he missed his mummy and brothers and sisters so he was up most of the night as was the rest of the household. Last night I thought we’d make him comfortable in a box by our bed so I could reach down and comfort him when he fussed. Since he can’t yet handle the stairs, we put him in a clear rubbermaid box that’s about the height of two stairs. Darned if the little devil didn’t manage to climb out of it minutes later. So I pulled him up on my chest to quiet him, and the dickens rolled off me and immediately peed on the bed. (Can we say “Leah was not happy?”) We finally got him settled down, and he woke every two hours and yipped for about twenty minutes then would calm down and go back to sleep. Which made a sleep-deprived Leah happier.
But when he’s awake he’s a bundle of energy hopping all over the place, chasing a ball, chewing the teddy Curly donated, and finding all sorts of things I missed with the vacuum cleaner. In the meantime, I’m on piddle patrol…