Hi! My name is Alice and I’m (supposedly) five months old. I’m a rescue dog but I’m (mostly) house broken and only puke once a day. I can’t tell you why I puke every day, but man is it fun to see my owner, Kate freak out over it. Apparently this puke thing is gross. But I have no barometer for gross since I chew on pig ears (yes ACTUAL dried pig ears that are sold at Target in the pet section – isn’t that AWESOME?) I don’t chew shoes, but I strongly suggest that you hide your Hungry Hungry Hippos marbles when I’m around. When I’m not attacking my leash, I enjoy long walks in the woods, stalking the neighbors’ cat and whining at the door for no apparent reason.

So yeah – we have a dog. And up until a few months ago, I would never have expected that this would happen. Our house is not very big, we have three small children, my oldest son has numerous therapy appointments each week and I feel like I spend half my life in the car… But here we are. And it’s okay. Alice is actually a VERY good dog.

I took the twins to a wedding in NYC over the weekend and came home to this new family member. I received the following pictures on my drive home along with the announcement that we are now dog owners.

Chris and Oliver had plans to “look” at dogs, but immediate adoption was not something we discussed. In fact, we were talking about doing this in July when everyone was out of school and the noisiest day of the year (July 4th) was over. But Chris said that he knew Alice was the perfect dog for us. And I guess we couldn’t just put her on a two month hold.

Like everything else in my life, things didn’t happen exactly as I had planned. And as usual, it’s fine – maybe even better this way.

I haven’t owned a dog since the ’80s; and even then, we were terrible pet owners with inconsistent rules and training (hey – sounds a lot like my parenting!) So I’ve been relying heavily on Chris to tell me what I’m supposed to be doing with this animal. And I’m not that bad at it. I can make her sit and stay (most of the time), and when Chris isn’t around, she definitely knows I’m the boss in our house.

With Chris at work and Oliver at school most of the week, the twins and I have been with Alice the most. And they are just as clueless as I am. This is all new to them and I’ve discovered that they think ANYTHING is possible with dogs.

The other day in the car, I said “Alice is the PERFECT dog for our family.” And George agreed, “yes! We should buy her AGAIN!” I’m still not sure how he thinks that would work…

Then later in the day, when I was talking about the various treats that Chris has been putting in her food bowl, I told them “Alice ate an egg last night.” And Eleanor gasped, “Alice LAID AN EGG last night?!”

So they’re pretty much ready for anything.

I am too. And I’m taking it day by day. But mainly I’m happy. I love seeing Oliver playing with Alice. He’s the only one of kids brave enough to let her tackle him and gnaw on him with her giant puppy teeth. And Chris has never seemed so relaxed and content. Whether he’s wrestling with Alice or lying on the floor next to her – I swear, she just drains the stress and intensity right out of him.

Also, my house looks great since my mild OCD tendencies make it impossible for me to abide BOTH a dog and a dirty floor. And of course, I’m constantly scrubbing tables and counters to discourage Alice from jumping up to lick them. So that alone helps with my own stress and anxiety.

While the kids already more or less destroyed any sense of perfectionism that I may have harbored in the past, Alice is systematically locating all remaining shreds and grinding them into dust. Even those long walks on the wooded trails behind our house that should be fun for EVERYONE have included numerous bouts of complaining, crying and whining (OH the whining) – with Eleanor in the lead for most annoying participant (which is saying a lot since Alice starts tug of war battles for leash dominance every time I stop for more than two seconds).

Things truly peaked on Wednesday when Eleanor cried and refused to walk any further because her legs hurt. After several minutes of good parenting discussions about behavior and consequences, I gave in and told her to climb on my back. The minute her muddy shoes started staining my khaki pants, Alice lost her mind and lunged at us in an attempt to climb on top of me as well. As we turned the corner in a staggering whirlwind of wailing, yelling, barking, lunging and muddy shoes and paws, we narrowly missed tripping over a turtle that was almost as big as Alice. Perhaps you heard my scream? It was loud. It also stopped the madness and everyone WALKED home without further incident.

And what about Alice? How does she feel about her new home and family?

She seems happy. But I do wonder what she thinks about us – particularly from her own pack animal perspective. Here is my best guess:

Chris: Alpha who likes to play.

Kate: Alpha alternate who likes to take away all smells with spray bottles.

Oliver: Beta #1 who likes to play.

Eleanor: Beta #2 who DOES NOT like to play [Eleanor prefers Alice when she’s calm and not so “bitey”].

George: Beta #3 who likes to think he is Alpha.

So that’s our pack now. A family of five plus one. A pack of six. And as I sit here writing in my blog for the first time in weeks, with Oliver at school, Chris as work, the twins playing quietly and Alice snoozing next to my feet, I think that’s pretty perfect.

But feel free to get my opinion on this later when I’m picking up her poop in a plastic bag.

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