If Phoebe Can Do It, Why Can't I?
You know that episode of Friends where Phoebe's mom gives her a puppy for a day or so. The point of having the puppy is to help Phoebe understand that if it will be hard for her to give the puppy back after awhile, how much harder will it be to give up the babies she will carry for her brother and his wife. Right. So, I ended up with a puppy after the weekend, but now all I want is to give it back. Now.

I've discovered over the weekend that I could literally be the most horrible person alive. In Texas, at least. I went to Tulsa to visit my Grandma, who now lives in a retirement home and who doesn't get out much at all. At first glance, this is a very sweet thing for me to do. I'm a wonderful grandaughter. I drove up for the visit and we had a wonderful time. She even remembered who I was!

The dark part of the weekend came when my aunt told me about her new puppy. It's a boston terrier puppy. Our family has always had boston terriers, so one day when I planned to get a dog, I had planned to get a boston terrier. I just hadn't planned to do that now, exactly.

But my aunt asked me if I wanted the puppy. I couldn't say no without seeing it. I have a rule to check things out before making decisions. But, this turned out to be my downfall. Upon seeing the puppy, I immediately fell in love with him. He could not have been any cuter at seven weeks old. Sweet as could be. After spending an hour or so with him, I decided to pack him up and take him home.

This could very well be the dumbest decision I've ever made.

I live alone in a third floor apartment. Tough conditions for a pet of any kind. I plan to move in a couple months, so my logic was that it wouldn't be too bad to have a dog for two months in an apartment. When I move, I'll be moving to a place with some sort of yard. But, it seems my logic was jaded by my infatuation with the furry critter, and I managed to talk myself into thinking it was a good idea to take him home.

He was great in the car. Sat in his crate, almost without a peep. We stopped a couple times to stretch our legs. But the longer I drove, the more time I had to think about what I had just done and the commitment I had just made. This was a major thing. Not just a play toy to have around. I had to take care of this puppy. For life.

I'm used to only taking care of myself. My life is very 'single', in that I come and go as I please, answering to no one. I like to be able to head out for a weekend whenever I feel like it. I like to travel. I'm not home much. I have a packed schedule, which actually doesn't really allow time to spend with a new pet. Why I didn't think of this before I loaded up the pooch, I don't know. For some reason, adding 'dog' to the equation of my life seemed like no big deal.

I got him home and upstairs to my apartment. From then on, it was a rough evening. I had to 'dog proof' my apartment, which wasn't easy. I have stuff everywhere, since it's a small place. It's basically a death trap for youngsters and animals, which I hadn't realized since I don't ever have youngsters or animals in my home.

I got him settled in briefly, then went to church. I must admit I concentrated very little on church, as my thoughts were completely obsessed with the wee furry thing alone at my apartment. I left quickly after church, telling only a few people of the new exciting addition to my family. At that point, it still seemed like an adventure, although it was already beginning to lose its luster a bit. But I had to tell someone. Bad idea, since now there are others who know what an idiot I am.

Back home again, I finished getting things set up for the puppy. I also had a ton of things I needed to do for myself, but managed to get to almost none of them. I called my mom and we talked about the puppy. I think she could tell I wasn't as excited as I should be, as I laid on the floor wrestling with this little beast with sharp pointy teeth. My mom was great in that she didn't freak out or tell me I'd done a stupid thing. I think she knew that we both knew that I'd taken on more than I could handle at this point. But, she was supportive. We've always had dogs in the family. So my initial trials with the puppy were nothing new to her.

I took him outside for the last time of the evening, then put him in his crate for bed time. I was worried about him, and about what I'd done. I hardly slept at all, although he slept most of the night. He didn't even whine much, which is a great sign of a good dog. He's so well behaved and sweet. He doesn't deserve to be stuck in my tiny apartment with me.

He had me up earlier than usual this morning, which is one strike against him. I need my sleep, and since I hadn't slept much through the night, I was none too happy to take him outside this morning. I realized what I needed to do. I needed to get in touch with my aunt and see if she would take him back. Right away.

I got ready for work, and set the puppy up in my laundry room, making sure the room was dog safe. I fed him and left him some water, all his toys, plenty of newspaper and towels, his bed, a fan, and shut him in for the day. I left for work with a heavy heart.

So, now I wait to hear from my aunt to see how soon I can bring him back. He needs to get back to his yard and playmates. They have a full house with other pets and kids and people around. Things a young puppy needs.

I need my house back and my life back. It's only been 24 hours, but I am a total mess. I'm completely freaked out about having the puppy. My stomach is in knots. I can't concentrate on anything. I'm tired and sleep deprived. And I feel very, very guilty. I should not be allowed to make big decisions on the spur of the moment ever again. No good comes from it.

If this is anything what it's like to have kids, count me out for a long time to come. Nothing like a huge living responsibility to put you in your place. I am either too selfish to care that much for another living thing, or I am too much of a softie to make the poor little guy suffer through living with me, knowing I'm not the best for him.

Yikes. Worst Decision Ever.

C.T.