The joys of having a puppy

She’s the cutest and smallest member of the family, well besides me of cause. She is four weeks old and her names Sheila. As tiny and as joyful as Sheila is, she can be a handful and could possibly grow up to be a nightmare, pulling washing off the line and doing dreadful things.

I trust that she will not, as she does not look the naughty type of dog, while rather the protective type. She runs around the house, shaking her tale form side to side that her entire body shifts. It is extremely funny to see, as her tale is as long as her body. She bursts with energy running up and down during the day and crying from dusk till dawn. She keeps me awake and makes me angry, but none the less she has that look that makes me forgive her once I see her. At her young age she brings us joy. She also brings us buckets and buckets of tears when Mother calls on me to clean up her mess that she leaves everywhere outside. For the least thus far she hasn’t done any jobs that I know of inside the house. If one day I disappear, you’ll know that my mother got hold of me thanks to Sheila doing illegal business in the house. I told her to leave those shady dealings and to stop her running and urinating when she sees me. I told her to relax and take it slow, as I dread the act that may become a habit, which will in turn become a major problem when she is two years old running to jump on me. At the moment she is a ball of hair who reminds me of the little gremlin called Gizmo.

She’s not as ugly, but she’s my Sheila and she’s growing to be my best friend.

Here she comes running with her big paws, I can’t wait for her to get bigger to take her out to the beach and play some frisbee.