Her name is Monroe, and she is my new Boston Terrier puppy.
Before I even started my official first day at the paper, my boss and I found out we were kindred spirits in the sense that we both loved dogs.
Once I started at the paper, we talked almost every day how I wanted a Pembroke Welsh Corgi so bad I was this close to spending more than $600 and just ordering one off of petfinder.com.
Let me just tell you, I had a friend who ordered a puppy off of a puppy-selling Web site. Needless to say, after the puppy got off the plane and out of his kennel, he looked at that kennel like it was the crypt keeper and reacted like you were throwing him in a gas chamber every time he was placed in the kennel to leave for work.
So, as fate would have it, about two weeks or so after starting my job, my boss got an e-mail about a lady looking for a good home for one of her three puppies.
One look at the photo of this puppy, and I was sold. Forget Corgis–for now at least.
Before I even met her, I knew her name. A black dot resembling a mole was delicately placed, almost on purpose, on the left side of her muzzle.
Now, her full name is Marilyn Monroe, of course, but she only needs to hear her full name when she’s in trouble. For all other purposes, it’s just Monroe.
For the past month, it’s been all about her.
Waking up at 2:30 in the morning because she is crying for me to bring her outside, changing clothes before walking out the door for work because she jumped on me with muddy paws and cleaning up you-know-what because she refuses to use the puppy pads.
If my devotion to her is not love, I don’t know what it is.
She does these things that should make me at least somewhat angry, and all I really do is smile–that is, except, when she has accidents as soon as I bring her in from outside.
And after only a month, I can tell she loves me, too.
When we are outside, and she gets scared, the first place she hides is between my feet. She then proceeds to look up at me with these too-cute-for-words eyes and expects me to save her from the evil dog barking around the corner.
When she sleeps, she can’t just sleep next to me on the couch while I’m watching TV. No, she has to curl up in between the back of my neck and the couch before she can truly get into a good nap complete with a dream that has her chasing dragonflies.
I can tell she sees me as the person who is going to always be there for her–except from 9 to 5 while working.
However, I know she’s doing just fine while I’m at work. She has her friends–Bunny, Cat and Mr. Prickle Pants.
Mr. Prickle Pants is a hedgehog stuffed animal, and he is her best friend.
Now, if only I can coerce Mr. Prickle Pants into letting Monroe know what the puppy pads are for.