Hey, Did you know we got a dog?

I’m sure you didn’t. Positive you’ve had no clue. I don’t talk about it ever. In case you’ve been under a rock, Ellie came home a week & a half ago and she’s basically the perfect dog. Someone told me that puppy life is a lot like parenting, because something else solely relies on you, and if that’s the case- I could be a mother of quadruplets because this puppy is the best dog, ever. 

Now, I’m not new to the dog life. Living with my parents, I’ve had three. None of which were mine of course- they were pretty much my mother’s, but I’ve been around dogs… When we decided to get Ellie, I prepped Dylan pretty much daily on dog etiquette. “Do not let Ellie sleep in our bed, do not let her cry, swat her butt if she bites” and on & on. After all, I’m like the self-proclaimed “best dog mom ever”, so I knew what I was in for…

Except, I had no idea what I was in for.

Night one: Dylan & I had the house prepped for Ellie’s arrival. The puppy pad was out, the travel kennel was ready to be brought to work, the food and water dish was ready to rock & the big kennel was in the living room because that was where she was going to sleep.

After three hours in the car, we got her home. We watched her sniff around & knew she needed to visit the little puppy’s room. Then she pranced onto the puppy pad & did her thing like a pro. We were impressed. Except, then she did it again. and again. Pretty sure home slice didn’t have any accidents night one. NONE. 

She didn’t want to sleep in her kennel in the living room. Of course, I instantly decided that this was going to be her downfall. If she’s self potty training already, there’s no way she’s going to make our lives easier during the night. Except, she only cried because she wasn’t ready for bed and she wanted to be in the bedroom with us. After we moved the kennel to be next to our bed, she popped right in there and snuggled in for a night of sleep. By “night of sleep”, I mean SEVEN HOURS. Who is this dog? 

Day two: Dylan and I panicked about kenneling her, but we needed to run to the grocery store. This is it. She’s going to freak out & I’m going to have to work from home forever because there’s no chance she’s going to stay in the kennel. Until we put her in there and she put herself down for a nap. 

Day three through seven: Ellie came to work with mom & dad this week. After crying in my office for a grand total of nineteen seconds, she settled in and slept all day long for five days.

Our first week-iversary with Ellie was definitely a cause of celebration. Cause 1. I’ve never even kept a bouquet of flowers alive a week and 2. cause Dylan didn’t accidentally step on her at all… So we woke up, decided to snuggle her, she fell off the bed. She hit her head and yelped her little puppy yelp as she hit the floor and mom was not okay. I cried for 40 minutes, called my mom, and googled “dog brain damage symptoms”… She’s okay. Our plan was to have an Ellie Day anyway, and after her incident- it became necessary.

So, the Salisburys embarked to the local “dog” pet store… We bought her a new bite stick to chew on. (There is a big dog at the pet store & he’s so friendly! Ellie looks at him like he’s a peasant and hides) Then we went to Starbucks. Bitches love Starbucks. The lady on the speaker laughed at us as we proudly asked for a Puppaccino. Dylan and I were too excited. Ellie went crazy for that whipped cream and she deserved it. We ended our time at Petsmart with the Easter Bunny. You betcha. The. Easter. Bunny. We’re creepy parents.

Is She The Perfect Dog?

To be completely honest, we’ve had more potty successes than failures. She’s spent the last two days at home, and our only issues are that she can’t hold her potty for the three hours that she’s in the crate. Poor girl is embarrassed about it too. Other than that, she crates for us every time we put her in there, even though it’s three times a day. She doesn’t chew on our stuff, she only chews on her toys. She lets us put her on her back and she lets us brush her. She rides in the car in her travel kennel like a champ.  She loves the park and walks next to use during her time outside. This woman is my life. 

Our only issues thus far are the fact that she doesn’t listen. Or moreover, doesn’t really understand what’s being said. I have this issue with being that gross woman who gives her dogs nicknames (let’s be clear at the fact that I started off by giving her a full name…) and so I call her Ellie, Elle Belle, Eleanor, Baby, Honey, and the best one: Baby Bushka. Everyone say the collective what the actual eff? 

Babushka is “old woman” in Russian. Per Urban Dictionary, Bushka is a term for “anything”… I have no idea where I got it, but one day I looked into her eyes and she was a Bushka. I know that I need to stop, because I can’t ever teach her “sit”, “shake”, or even “come here” if I can’t teach her her own name… Look at her though. Girl’s a Baby Bushka for sure.

& Let’s Save The Best For Last…

Tuesday night, Ellie bit me. As Dylan & I do, we swat her butt with a firm “NO” or “NO BITE”. So I swatted her and said “NO”. This girl’s not facing me at this point, her bottom was- that’s just how she spun herself around. Then this happened. She turned around, right as I swatted her. Normally she licks me, to recognize that she was sorry- I guess? Tonight, she spun her little butt around, looked me straight in the face, and SWATTED ME BACK.

She swatted me back.

This girl. I swear, if I was a dog- I’d be Ellie.

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