The horse broke *me*...

I like dogs. I would even go so far as to say I love dogs. But, none of my cats made me cry with frustration on our first night together.

I always said that if I ever got a dog, it would be a big dog, a dog that I could use as a pillow on cold nights. Small dogs always seem so frail, so twitchy, more rat than dog. But a big dog, like a mastiff or Great Dane, those are DOGS. They look like the word "dog" sounds; solid, stable, simple.

I've found myself wishing for a prissy Bichon Frise, lately.

On Saturday, a 6 month old St. Bernard came to live with us. Even at such a tender age, she's hit 80 pounds and stands as tall as my thigh. But, for such a large dog, she's sweet and gentle, good with everyone, big, small, two legged or four.

So, why wish for a pocket pet? Well, when a teacup poodle piddles with nervousness, it's just that, a piddle. When a pony-sized puppy piddles, it looks like someone tossed a Super Big Gulp of Mountain Dew on the floor. And our pony piddles, a lot. I'm talking amount AND frequency.

Now, you're asking, why is she nervous? Turns out, she's afraid of stairs. Which is an issue since she now lives on the second floor.

Back to Saturday. We discovered this little quirk immediately and immediately started cleaning up piddle. Once. Twice. Three times. We had to resort to carrying the giant bladder up and down the stairs to get outside. But, the act of scooping her up made her (surprise, surprise) piddle.

By the end of the evening, after mopping all the floors in our house multiple times and doing enough loads of laundry to empty the Colorado River, I was spent, physically and emotionally. I checked in on the sleeping behemoth and spotted something in her white fur. A flea.

This shouldn't have made me freak out. A dose of Advantage on her back and the cats' would wipe out any blood-suckers in less than a day. But it was suddenly too much. I did the only thing I could think of; I curled up into a ball by the side of the bed, the lights out and hidden from view and sobbed. Not my finest moment and testament to the fact that I don't do well in stressful situations.

I went to bed shortly after and fell asleep wondering if I could handle a dog, which got me wondering about another peeing creature I might someday have in my house. Things were looking bleak all over.

The next morning dawned, clear and quiet. I padded to the bathroom where the puppy was corralled. She looked up at me with brown, bloodshot eyes, her lanky limbs and huge paws tangled on the dog bed. I thought she looked absolutely perfect, absolutely at home, and absolutely mine. I wonder if she thought the same thing as she looked back at me, since I had brown, bloodshot eyes, lanky limbs and huge paws.

Thank goodness that is where our similarities end. I would have been piddling all Saturday night.