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Content Starts On Raising Puppies (or, alternatively, *A puppy)

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Our newest family member, Brinlee.

Puppies are a handful. I had two dogs growing up. The first one, Benji, was a terrier-poodle mix (dubbed, terripoo). My parents got him from a breeder in Dominion. He had some kind of cyst on his stomach that resembled a belly button. Benji was a problematic dog, he never listened, knew few tricks, and he was not well groomed. My second dog, Jake, was an adopted senior we received after my great-aunt passed away, nobody else wanted him. He smelled horrendous and his teeth were rotting out of his mouth. I hold the belief that he had some form of doggy-dementia, as he would constantly want to go outside and often forgot when he ate. He loved sitting next to people as they ate, much to our dismay, as the smell of his breath would spread to everyone sitting at the dinner table.

Brinlee is a soft-coated wheaten terrier. They’re Irish dogs who, according to Wikipedia, are known for being easygoing. Brinlee is quite the opposite. Brinlee is like having a toddler, she constantly needs to be fed, let outside to go pee, have your attention at all hours of the day, and kept stimulated so that she doesn’t turn into the distant cousin of the Tasmanian Devil. I thought that waking up at 5am was reserved to new parents, but alas, it seems to also be the case for puppy owners. Despite all that, we love Brinlee and she loves us. I can’t wait until she starts to calm down, at least a little bit.

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