ok...fine! I'll Admit it...

I can be a big giant girl sometimes....

If you'll bear with me, I'll explain.  If any of you have had a pet that you loved dearly and unfortunately lost to something stupid like a car wheel, disease, running away, having to be put down...whatever the case may be, then I'm sure you will understand where I am coming from.  So, a little back ground, I'll be quick and spare you the sappy "i miss my dog" stuff.  When I was 12, I had a mutt named Rascal, he was awesome, smarter than most people I know.  Anyways, make a sad story short, He mauled my cousin out of the blue one day and had to be put down.  Traumatizing for the 12yr old me.  Skip ahead 5 years and I get another mutt, this one half the size and a female.  Her name was Daisy.  Smart as a whip, faster than sound, and could literally jump onto the trunk of a car even though she stood only 16" tall sitting down.  To make another sad story short, She got out one day because a family member let her out while I was still at school.  They weren't watching her and she, like any young dog, took off.  I think because she was chasing something as she was prone to do.  She subsequently made her way out to a busy street and was run over.  Both instances sucked, incredibly bad.  And I say Stupid, because they were.  I would rather have lost them in a bear fight or saving someone from a burning building  and was then attacked by ninjas or some such shit, that is if I had to lose them at all.  NOT to such stupid things as a needle or a car wheel.  Granted, however bad I feel about the first one, I feel a whole lot worse for my cousin, he has to go through life with a vicious scar on his face.  He swears it gets him laid a lot, but I still feel awful.

Now, before I go on, let me say that the above is the only sad part of what I am writing today.

Back at the beginning of the year, my girlfriend managed to stumble upon a sweet opportunity to get a dog, one that fit the type she was looking for, and for free.  Its a Half Schnauzer, half poodle.  Yeah, a friggin Schnoodle I believe they are called.  Now normally I am the kind of guy who wants a dog that he can wrestle with or at least get rough with.  You know, the kind of dog that can take a punch, uses truck tires as a chew toy, named Leroy and terrifies all of the neighborhood children.  (see The Sandlot for reference).

There is no wrestling with the new addition to my girlfriend and I's family.

"What's a Suplex Daddy?"

Above is Ouisie (pronounced Weezey).  My girlfriend named her that, after much talking out of on her original choice...Sprinkles.  I swore up and down I was not ever going to walk the dog if it';s name was Sprinkles.  No mutherfucking way.  Ouisie isn't a terrible name and it kind of fits the dog anyway.  The pup was only 3 months old when we got her, and has been a holy handful since we got her.  She's easily one of the sweetest dogs I have ever met, and is actually a really good dog.

Now, back to fitting this rambling in with the title.  My previous experiences, sad as they may be, have led me to be exorbitantly cautious with this little one.  We were walking her the other day and she managed to dart at something as I was switching hands on the leash.  She got away for a split second and I fucking panicked.  The whole of the situation would have been just fine had I not freaked out and, in turn, made the puppy freak out.  Luckily the girlfriend lives on the second story and the puppy is scared to go down the steps.  I hope this NEVER changes.  She bolted out the front door the other day, of course she stopped at the steps (4 feet away from the door), but again, I panic.  At 32, and a smoker, that little bag of guilt can easily outrun me.  So, basically, My fears are getting the best of me and I spend more time worrying about that little dog than I do most anything else.

Which brings me to today.  She went in this morning to get Spayed.  Now I know full well that this is a common procedure and not a big deal at all.  But Brudda, let me tell you I have been worried about it all day, letting my imagination get the better of me.  Thankfully my GF knew i would act like this and called me to keep me posted on every little move the vets made.  She was picked up an hour ago and is doing just fine...except for having to wear the Cone of Shame.

I'm a grown ass man, I should have better control over this shit right?  LOL

You'd worry too, right?  I mean, come on...How fucking cute is this dog.

Here's the thing though, this is a dog...a puppy rather.  How the hell am I gonna react when I have kids.  I can't imagine what that is like and I have a new found respect for those of you have children and maintain a state of normalcy.  I would be freaking out over the smallest things.  God help me if I have girls...I'm pretty sure that I'll be one of those over protective parents that commercials make fun of.

My apologies for starting out with the sad shit, but I had to giver you a point of reference why this little 7lb bag of awesome makes me worry incessantly.