A few weeks ago, on one of the days that A was at work with me due to his thingie, one of my co-workers came in late.
To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t even noticed he was late (bad boss!!) so I gave it no thought.
V: I’m sorry I’m late. There was an incident.
Me: You’re late?
V: Yeah, it’s like 10 after.
Me: Oh. Okay. Want some hot chocolate? (I don’t actually think that’s what I said, but it was something totally inane like that. Cause honestly, I didn’t care he was late.)
V: No. So what happened was, when I was heading to the car to come to work I saw this puppy. It came charging up to me like “Hey, help!” But I was already late, so I just brought him with me.
At this point he pulls out this TINY little chihuahua that looks like a boxer mix. Cutest. Freaking. Puppy. EVAR.
Me: OMG SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE (Dogs all over the city heard this noise. True story.)
V: Yeah, this is why I didn’t want to show you. Don’t get attached!
Me: I shall call him Squishy! And he shall be mine!!
A: (grabs puppy and snuggles) He’s so cute!
Puppy: *wiggle, lick, nibble, cuddle*
At this point both A and I are total goners. Probably more me, tbh. I’m a sucker for small, cuddly, baby animals. Kittens more so than puppies, but ya know. I can’t work/volunteer in animal shelters for this reason. I’d come home with every damn furbaby in the place.
ANYWAY! I immediately claim the puppy as my own (but really he’s A’s puppy, for reasons) and drag him off to my office with a dish of water, a bunch of newspaper in a box, and a mister who is totally in love with the puppy breath.
V still insists that we must search out the puppy’s family. Not only did I say that if the puppy had family, they have proved to be poor puppy parents, but @JessaRusso and @callmebecks backed me up on this. (I love these ladies!)
Interestingly enough, neither A nor V gave my Twitter backup any weight at all. Jerkfaces.
After about an hour or so, I had to run A over to his thingie and V took the puppy. For the rest of the day, I was not allowed near the puppy, lest I grow too attached.
*snort* Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t even know me at all. A and I had already picked out the puppy’s name after like 10 minutes.
His name is Oedipus Rex. Rex for short. There’s a reason for this. I swear it.
A suggested we name the puppy after a mythical or superhero character who had been abandonated as a baby and left to die in the wild. I thought this was a fabulous idea and we settled on Rex right away.
V, the rat bastard, took the puppy home with him, because A agreed that we should find the puppy’s totally irresponsible and awful family.
Shortened version. After a few days V gave up on finding the puppy’s family and said we could have him.
Now I have a tiny marauder that sounds, I shit you not, like a whole herd of rhinos when he runs through the bedroom during puppy play time.
Rex has settled into his new home quite comfortably.
Except the cats…
I have three of them. They all have very different reactions to Rex.
The big fatty: Mom. Seriously. What the hell is this? Is it food? If it’s food why the f*** is it MOVING??? My food doesn’t MOVE! It’s damn noisy for a snack. I think you may have screwed up the whole food concept here, Mom.
The prissy diva (who likes the bathtub; stories coming later): OH HOLY CAT JEEBUS WTF IS THAT?!?!?!?!
(When Rex plays with the cat-nip sock) Dude. That’s my stash, man. Not cool!
Teenage attitude girl cat: Oh gross. It’s loud and slobbery. Oh dear lord, am I not the baby anymore?
As much as I love my kitties, I have to confess to a certain unholy, and slightly evil, delight in their distress at the introduction of the energizer puppy.
More stories to come!