The Hunter becomes the hunted …

A new puppy in the house means no sleep this weekend. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my last weekend before returning to work, but fun for Taj!

A new puppy in the house means no sleep this weekend. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my last weekend before returning to work, but fun for Taj!

(For my Facebook readers, Facebook Notes is horrible at displaying pics with it’s matching blog post. Please click the “view original post” link below to see pics properly.)

After MANY years of dodging the bullet, we decided to get another dog for Taj. (We used to have a small mutt when Taj was a baby, but we gave her to a loving family when we moved from Wyoming to Germany. Taj has been asking for a dog ever since we returned to the US.)

Taj has some slight breathing problems, so I was worried about which type of dog to get. We decided on a Maltese-Poodle mix, because we hope he won’t shed much.

I honestly didn’t want a dog. (I’m not much of a dog person.) But I made a promise to Taj while I was in Afghanistan. So, as much as I’m NOT in the mood to tiptoe through doggie-doo in our backyard, and scrub pet stains out of the carpet, I’ve kept my promise.

Speaking of the “‘stan,” Taj had planned to name his new dog “Stan,” to remind him of the time his dad was deployed to Afghanistan. But, I guess after playing with the dog at the breeder, and seeing how he liked to hunt around and sniff things, he decided that “Hunter” was more appropriate.

Our first night with Hunter was horrible. Not that he did anything wrong … He just did what all dogs do. He barked, and whined, and urinated, and defecated, and scratched, and howled.

He did all of those things …

All.

Night.

Long.

Of course, neither Muna nor Taj were bothered by Hunter. Both of them can sleep through an earthquake, so they didn’t hear anything.

But years of military service, and my most recent experience of sleeping in Afghanistan (always anticipating rocket attacks) has made me a VERY light sleeper. So, I heard everything. Every bark. Every howl. Every piddle of urine on the white carpet. Every scratch at his crate. He kept me awake all night. (Meanwhile, the kid who “promised” to “do EVERYTHING for him DADDY” was fast asleep.)

When he was in his crate, he yapped all night. But, when he was outside, he (in all his un-potty-trained glory,) roamed the house, marking territory on anything and everything in sight. So, I spent most of my night chasing after him.

It was a horrible night, but given where I’ve been the past year, it wasn’t that bad.

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