Brinkley’s First Christmas- and lots of other stuff

So, it’s been a while. Turns out that having a puppy means a lot less free time. Especially when you spend all that free time throwing a tennis ball. To be completely honest though, the biggest reason for my lack of blog posts is my lack of desire to be on my computer once I get home from work.

Needless to say, there’s a lot to catch up on. Brinkley is now around 65 pounds. I can open the door and he will go potty without me having to go watch. He sleeps in my bed, taking up most of it. Most importantly, he has found the love of his life- bacon.

Brandon and I were in line at Whataburger one afternoon when the cashier for the drive thru line saw Brinkley and Major in the backseat. She told us to hold on while she ran away. She came back with treats way more exciting than the dry but thoughtful treats Chickfila gives dogs. She came back with two juicy pieces of bacon. They were swallowed whole by the two dogs, but the taste remained in their mouths, making them lick their lips for over half an hour. It was no coincidence that the next time Brinkley saw the orange, vintage looking logo in the drive thru line he rolled down the backseat window attempting to order all the bacon they had. It was so hysterical that I couldn’t stop laughing which I’m sure convinced Whatburger that I was on crack.

Besides finding love, Brinkley has matured in a lot of other areas as well. He is usually very calm and happy unless he gets bursts of puppy in him where he runs around the house. He loves to chew bones and chase tennis balls. His favorite days are those spent at Wiggly Field- when we play fetch with floating toys in a big pond. He will swim for hours before collapsing. His disgusting and muddy self will then get in the backseat of the car and give me a look that only belongs in an SPCA commercial with “The Arms of am Angel” playing in the background. Proof found here:

Brinkley is now at the age where he can sit through movies. His favorite? Cowboys and Aliens. Let’s be honest, he’s been a Harrison Ford fan since he spent his puppyhood obsessing over Hans Solo. I’m not even kidding though. I have never seen a dog so into a movie. He couldn’t look away. He sat on the couch watching for a solid 30 minutes. And once his head got tired, he laid down but continued to watch. Not even Brandon and me laughing distracted him. What a grown dude.

While acting grown up, I have to often remind myself that he is still young and having a lot of firsts. His first Christmas was this week. I attempted to create his first Christmas card but Brinkley was being a Debby Downer. My idea was to wrap him in Christmas lights and have him pose in front of the tree. Ha. Turns out Christmas lights are another thing he is afraid of. They just made him pant, and try to run away- while being plugged into the wall. Failed pictures here:

He did enjoy lots of time with his Lady and Man (grandparents) during Christmas though. He was spoiled with two stockings filled with bones, toys and treats. While he was amused by the tissue paper, I was amused by the “My Golden Retriever is smarter than your honor student” bumper sticker and Brinkley mouse pad.

I guess it’s that time to take off his blingy, red and green jingle necklace and prepare for the New Year. Stay tuned to find out what Brinkley’s resolutions will be. I have a feeling he will stick to his much better than I do to mine.

More random photos:

Stay at Home Mom

This weekend I pretended to be a stay at home mom. I never got to have one, and I’m not too sure if I will ever become one, so this weekend was something rare.

My mom was a teacher so it was better than a busy business mom who worked 9-5 most days of the year. We had our long Christmas break and summer vacation and we always made the most of it. But she and I both missed her being able to come participate in Field Day or her being able to get laundry done during the day instead of her folding it, and me lying in the warm pile during the weekend.

I am now the business mom, whose puppy spends days in the crate. I still come home for lunch to let him out, feed him lunch and play, but our time is limited. My weekend plans revolve around things I can do with Brinkley around so that he and I can enjoy our weekends together.

This weekend, while we were at my parents, I was giving my mom a Pinterest tutorial. We were scrolling through ideas for decorating for her Thanksgiving parties when I remembered I had a recipe for homemade dog treats. When I found out my mom had all the ingredients I knew it had to be meant to be.

Stay at homes bake goodness regularly, and so on Sunday so did I. I slaved over the treats for a whole 15 minutes in the kitchen, the hardest part being having the patience to use the small cookie cutters until all the dough ran out.

Twenty minutes in the oven, 5 minutes for cooling later, Brinkley had some homemade loving in his mouth.  I even got really stay at home mommy when I had the idea of packing some up in a cute clear bag with ribbon for a friend of Brinkley’s.

I tell myself that Brinkley eats these slower so that he can savor the taste, but that would be lying. So I’ll say he devours these even faster than his puppy Cheetos.

For anyone curious on what these look like, or wanting the recipe, here it is. My brother even informed me that he would eat these as a healthy snack. Ha.

Homemade dog treats:

Brinkley 1 month and 3 months. 

 

Safety First

It’s safe to say my level of crazy has once again reached new heights. What did it this time?  A bone.

I don’t have kids, but I do have a dog. And right now, that is enough for me. Randomly it hits me that I am in charge of this living things life. In charge of it’s safety and happiness. I’ve got the food, cleaning, and training under control. It’s the safe and happy part that I lose my mind over. This living, breathing puppy just wants to make me happy. And I could cry when I think about it because I’m a very emotional person. Something so little, so loyal, and so harmless has latched onto me. Now I must protect it and be there for it. ….a little overwhelming sometimes.

The most recent example of this was last night. I’d had a long day at work, and really wanted to enjoy the Cowboys game. I decided to hang out with my friends at “Monday Fun Day”, which I have never done simply because going meant putting Brinkley in his crate. When getting home from work, the last thing I want to do is think about putting him back in his crate. Nights are when we play and cuddle. I knew that I was going to be dog sitting him and Major the rest of the week though so I decided to go.

On my way home from work, I kept thinking about Brinkley’s happiness. My scale of happy for him is how much does his tail wag? Being in his crate probably wouldn’t make it wag. So what would make it better? A bone. He loves bones.

I’ve never let Brinkley have a bone in his crate. I’ve always feared he would choke on it while I was gone. But I wanted to make him happy so I put two bones in his crate to enjoy while I was gone.

Brandon reassured me all the way to Monday Fun Day that Brinkley would be fine and at first I believed him. I said a prayer out loud asking God to watch Brinkley and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. I ordered a beer to help me relax and I watched the cowboys. About every thirty minutes my mind would wander from the conversation at the table to Brinkley and his bone. The sounds of him pathetically gagging on a bone haunted my thoughts. Every thirty minutes turned into every fifteen, ten, five, two. Eventually it was pretty much all I could think about.

Brinkley don’t die.  Where is our check? Brinkley just go to sleep. The Cowboys need a new center. I will never forgive myself if he is dead. I would never have kids. I was supposed to make him homemade dog treats this weekend and he won’t be around for it. I’m going to be so dependent on antidepressants. Brinkley, please be alive.

I’m fairly confident that it was obvious that I was no longer having a Monday Fun Day by the look on my face, because Brandon took one look at me and insisted that we leave immediately…after the Cowboys get a 4^th down.

I said my goodbyes, and skipped hugging because it would take too long. I walked to the car, got in the passenger seat, and immediately started bawling. Not quiet, random tears. I sounded like a raccoon getting hit by a car. I probably looked like one too with my mascara all over my eyes. Except I would have to be a naked mole rat with raccoon eyes or something because my face gets super red when I cry. I was wailing, uncontrollably. I tried to explain to the baffled Brandon what was wrong but I could barely take breaths between the bawling. I finally was able to scream, “I DON’T WANT BRINKLEY TO BE DEADDDDDD”.

I’m sure this is shocking but Brinkley was still alive. The sight of him jumping in my lap and wagging his tail made me bawl more, obviously.  The unnecessary traumatizing night was enough to allow myself to let Brinkley sleep with me in bed all night.

To be honest, I don’t have a moral to the story. I can’t say that I won’t ever give him a bone in his crate again because I think that is irrational. But I also can’t honestly say I’m ever going to be calm when thinking about it. I don’t know how parents can be sane when letting their kids grow up, but I have a newfound respect for them.

All I know is I should probably apologize to my unborn children in advance for their ridiculously paranoid future mom.

 I'll go ahead and be a normal mom for a second and just post cute pictures of my dog:

Brothers bonding over bones

I'm soooooo comfortable

Sleepy boy has advanced to riding in the backseat!

Seriously, he sleeps like this.

"Umm, Mom, can we get me some more bones please?"

Enjoying a wonderful Sunday afternoon

Max: AKA Ninja Cat

 You’ve been introduced to 2 out of the 3 animals of the house, but I have yet to formally introduce Max. And with the story I have, this is as good of a time as any to do it.

Max is the cat of the house, and the oldest animal. He has been around for it all. Anyone who meets him, cat lover or hater, has to agree that Max is an exception to cats in general. Yes, he is a cat, but he doesn’t really act like it. He is a bit of a mystery, and completely fascinating. Because of this, I’ve determined that Max really needs his own honey badger video.

For the sad people who haven’t seen the video, here it is.

Max is unique like the honey badger. He sits on command. When he runs, he can sound like a herd of elephants. He is obsessed with the smell of bleach and house cleaners. He even drinks out of the toilet.

All of this makes him exceptionally hilarious to have around. But recently, he has been on a mission to get outside. He will dedicate hours to sitting by the front or back door just waiting for the opportunity to sneak out.

When he does manage to get out, all he wants to do is relax. In the backyard, he will jump up in a chair, lay down, and you’ll see him just taking in the world with his green eyes while his tail just bounces back and forth consistently. Because of this, you never really worry when he escapes, you just get annoyed if he decides to make it harder to pick him up by hiding in a bush.

So on Sunday morning when I didn’t wake up to Max’s HOWLING to get in the bedroom door, I immediately assumed the worst. A quick run through the house was made, checking all of his typical lounge spots. In the baskets, behind the blinds, the entertainment center. Walking around the backyard was next seeing if he escaped when the dogs were let out around midnight. No sign of Max. Panic starts to sink in.

The worst part? My brother is out of town and this is his cat. The cat escaped when I was in charge of the animals. Awesome.

Because he is a ninja cat, it is pretty easy for him to get out anytime the door opens to let the dogs out. He has escaped at night before, and found sitting in his chair lounging the next morning. The fact that he wasn’t around the house or yard wasn’t only strange, it was terrifying. He had never not been around.

Before the dreaded call to my brother happened, I decided to walk the neighborhood. Brandon watched one side of the street and I watched the other. Roads were driven with fear of seeing a dead cat. Sidewalks were walked with cat toys in hand and repeating “Max” in a high-pitched tone mimicking his meow.

After the call was made, Justin suggested getting tuna, Max’s favorite snack to see if he would show up.  No luck. I ran to Walgreens and got more tuna, along with some anchovies, shrimp and salmon….trying anything and everything. I spread the juice over the sidewalks hoping it would spread the smell. The pungent reek of the anchovies didn’t bring Max, but it did attract other cats.

After hours of no luck, I decided it was time to make signs. It didn’t help that Max didn’t have a collar on. It also didn’t help that these were the only two pictures of Max available.

 Do we want to use one of him sleeping where you really can’t tell him apart from any other cat, or do we want to use the one where he looks like he could kill you?

The first night was rough, getting our hopes up every time a cat would go for the tuna bait and then run away once the door opened.

I got a call on Monday from an unknown number and as I answered I tried not to get my hopes up that someone found Max. A young boy answered and asked if Max was still missing. When I said yes his response was “okay thanks bye.” Two minutes later he calls back asking if he could have one of Max’s cat toys for his dog to smell so they could walk around and look for Max.

I was really in no position to say no, plus it would make for an even better story if Max was found that way. It would be my pleasure for the kid to exchange the cat for money to buy a new video game. I gave him the address and told him I was on my way home and I would call him when I got home. Justin got home first and I told him to set a toy on the front porch. He saw three fifth grade boys sitting across the street with an old dachshund just waiting for the toy to be set on the porch. Dachshunds. The perfect cat hunting dogs.

Another night with no Max and hope was dwindling. Luckily the next-door neighbor trying to repair something in his backyard and SCREAMING cuss words constantly and repeatedly was a much-needed laugh.

Tuesday was back to work day and hope was pretty much gone.

Wednesday morning arrived and I was woken up by Brinkley barking at 6:30 am. He insisted on going outside an hour early. I let him out of his crate and opened the back door to be stunned by the sight of Max sitting at the door looking at me.

As if he was about to run off again, I grabbed him as fast as I could and I heard the familiar squeal come out of his just like every time I pick him up. I ran quickly to Justin’s room screaming “IT’S MAX! IT’S MAX!” and cat and owner embrace. Since he has been home, all he has wanted to do is drink water, and A LOT of it. His water bowl was refilled three times in the first hour and after it was empty again, he resorted to finding a Dickey’s cup filled with water to stick his head in and drink.

I’m writing this a few hours later and the high still isn’t gone. The ninja cat is back. He is now again around to hide and sneakily attack Brinkley then run off. It’s almost as if he was just waiting for our faith in him to be gone so that he could come back and say “HA HA suckers, told you I was a honey badger.”

I will gladly give him credit for surviving in the “wild” for three days, but let it be known that if it were up to me, he would have an embarrassing hot pink bell attached to his neck so that he would be too mortified to ever try the stunt again.

A Major Help

The dog is out of control. Not in a bad way but in a “wow, you really don’t run out of energy do you?” kind of way. He isn’t running away, or chewing on things he shouldn’t, or doing anything horrible. Okay…. He peed on my bed….twice….that was bad. But besides that, the dog just has more energy than he or I know what to do with. Bye Social Life (the little bit I had left), I’ve got to go make my dog tired!

Here is a list of things I have been trying as tools to tire Brinkley. Any other suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

• Walk A: Standing still while Brinkley continually attempts to attack his leash
• Walk B: Dragging Brinkley in the grass behind me on a walk while he plays tug of war on the other end of his leash.
• Walk C: We both actually walk, but he has the leash in his mouth.
• Laser Tag: Having Brinkley chase the laser pointer around in the back yard at night. Amusement time before giving up? 2 minutes.
• Tug of War: This could last as long as you want it to, and as long as you can stand his pathetic growl. Not the most effective at wearing him out, but does some damage to his energy level for sure.
• Fetch: You may get one or two good runs out of him before he is distracted by a blade of grass or bark..
• Swimming: The second most successful tool. Put him in the pool (obviously supervised with someone else in the pool) and tell him to do a lap. He will swim in a big circle then sit on the pool step.

If all of this fails to reduce his energy level, then I bring out my secret weapon, the most successful tool of them all.  I bring out the big guns. Major.

This is major. 55 pounds of Boxer. He is my brother’s dog, and my saving grace when I am exhausted and can’t handle hyper Brinkley. Major is four years old, and the best word to describe him is…..lovey. He will sit in your lap if you’ll let him. He would kiss your face with his slobbery mouth all day long if he could. He would hang out in your fanny pack all day every day, if he could fit, and if you were into that kind of thing.

While I typically give major a hard time for wiping his thick, bits of food filled drool on my pants during my lunch break, I honestly love him to death.

Major has more patience for Brinkley than anyone else. Brinkley uses major as his personal chew toy and Major sits there happily. Brinkley will sit on top of Major’s face and he will sit there happily. Brinkley will bite at Major’s jowls and ankles and Major will sit there happily.

Major is not only patient, but basically Brinkley’s babysitter. He will consistently play and wrestle with Brinkley until Brinkley is worn out. And just like a babysitter, Major usually lets the little kid win.

So let’s all give Major a round of applause, silent rally towel, snaps, a bow, and a whoop whoop!! Thanks Major!

The Magician

Hey everybody! Come over! Bring snacks! I have a magician living with me now!

This dog has to be a magician....not even the force can explain this dog. First of all, he is getting big, fast. I got him less than 3 weeks ago and he is massive. I keep telling him that if he keeps growing like he is, he won't get as much cute little puppy attention.

The vet said that he was going to be big, but I really didn't see it happening so fast. I think there is some kind of steroid in the Puppy Cheetos I'm giving him.

His second trick is called inhaling food. This dog is a living garbage disposal. It makes me wonder if there is crack in his dog food thoughg, because not only does he always want it, but so does the other dog, and the cat. And what’s great is that no matter how much you give him to eat, he will still go outside and eat bark. Fantastic.

Brinkley's latest magic trick is swimming. On Saturday, I sat in the pool and put him on the first step just to see what he would do. He swam to me. Such a natural. Since then, swimming might be my favorite thing to do with the little guy. He is getting better every time, and becoming more comfortable in the water. Plus his faces are epic. I couldn’t find a way to explain the experience of watching Brinkley swim, so I had the brilliant writer Brandon Mendosa explain:

“Swimming is something that comes naturally to a dog, but to say that Brinkley was tearing effortlessly through the pool like a canine Michael Phelps would be a lie. Like a child taking their first steps, a lot of effort was exerted in exchange for not a lot of movement. Presumably grasping at the ground that wasn't there, Brinkley's rapidly moving legs began to paddle him toward his destination-- me. He bobbed above the water like an ocean buoy with a face and fur, slowly inching his way toward me until finally reaching my outstretched arms and climbing my shoulder, clinging for dear life.”

The aftermath of swimming:

Seriously, magic or no magic involved, the dog is evolving at light speed. Brandon and I go to dinner, get back, and his response is "Oh my God, he has gotten bigger". He is now running without falling in the grass every three seconds. He is finally over being afraid to jump off the couch. Getting on the couch is a different story. And now IF he does have an accident, it's right by the back door. He has learned that I flip out more if it's on carpet. He still has his puppy face, but his hair is changing. He looks like a lion with thin hair all over his body and thicker hair on his neck and face...it's pretty hilarious.

Brinkley is also becoming money conscious. His original crappy McDonald's type dog food that the "babysitter" raised him on was $10 for a huge bag. The same size bag of his new fancy dog food is $50. Brinkley feels bad so now he tries to reassure me he doesn't need new toys. Instead, he will play with the cats old toys, or my favorite, toilet paper rolls.

This week with him has been great but hard. Between Monday and Tuesday I only got to spend 5 hours with the little guy. I understand the parents who hate working late because they only get to spend an hour with their kid before putting it to bed. It's not the guilt, or the fear of them getting used to you being away, but it's that uncontrollable desire to be there, to see everything they do, to not miss anything, and to be there to help shape them.

A woman at my work had a baby a few months ago and I constantly catch her watching the daycare video monitor of her baby in the nursery. She will sit at her desk and eat, while watching the screen the whole time. The baby can't sit up, or do anything really interesting, but her eyes are glued to the screen, to feel some sort of connection, to make sure she isn't missing anything. I get it now.

While Brinkley isn't blood related, he will be the closest thing I have to a baby for a while. And sadly, he is growing at a much quicker speed than one. If I had it my way, I would have maternity leave with him. But if I can't have that, then I am happy to say I now have a full time job with Launch so I can play with him at lunch and spoil him with bones, and treats, and whale toys.

I'll leave you with the most hilarious picture of Brinkley that will haunt him forever. 

 Lots of wet kisses from Brinkley!!!

In a Galaxy Far Far Away....

Brinkley really had no choice. Whether he liked it or not, he has been submerged into Star Wars on the planet of Whatashiner. Had he come into our lives a few weeks earlier, maybe he would be more like his mom, a Harry Potter freak, but nooooo, instead he came at a time when it was Brandon's turn to choose the saga watched on Tuesday nights.

It has become a ritual that every Tuesday night is spent watching some sort of saga, paired with Whataburger, and Texan beer. This started when Brandon wanted to see the last of the Harry Potter movies but hadn't seen the previous seven. So it began. Once the Harry Potter movies ended, I felt like Brandon deserved a break before I started him on the Twilight ones. This is when Star Wars came in.

Since Star Wars has come in, I feel like it has popped up in my life way more than before we started watching the movies. I blame the force, obviously. Suddenly, people are making references to things I understand. There are all of these Star Wars themed posts on Pinterest. Not just one Star Wars themed post, but one about dressing your baby like Princess Leia, or a Star Wars themed nursury. They are constant, and they are cute.

I can't escape it, and luckily I don't want to. I'm not really sure Brinkley does either. He likes Star Wars. It's already known that Brinkley's first birthday theme is Star Wars. He claimed Han Solo, Sasha is an At-At , Major will be C3PO (because he's the worry wart, duh), Beau is going to be an albino Chewbacca, and it's obvious that Nikki will be Yoda because of her ears. Other dogs, you are welcome to claim your characters now... best costume gets a new toy!

Anyway, the Star Wars insanity continued this morning when I got on Pinterest before work. All of a sudden, I see this Darth Vader spatula. $12 at Williams-Sonoma? Aaaaand ordered. 1.Because it's awesome. 2. Because when is something ever $12 at Williams-Sonoma? Well, this got me curious of what other Star Wars themed items I could find. There happens to be a lot... but here are just a few that will be making an appearance at Brinx's birthday party.

After reading this, you will probably agree with me that it's safe to say I'm obsessed with my dog. No need to worry though, I'm still completely normal, for the most part.

I must confess I did write a letter pretending to be Brinkley that talks about how to take care of him when babysitting him. Go ahead, judge.

Lets just set the record straight and say that he has rubbed off on me in good ways too. I haven't online shopped in weeks. Okay, I take that back. I haven't online bought in weeks. I also now have a legitimate reason to sit at home and be lame on week nights. Brinkley has also gotten me very excited about learning. That's right, learning. Mostly because I feel like my dog is getting a lot smarter than me and I feel like I should do something to prove that I'm smarter again. Here's why:

On Sunday morning, Brinkley had a puppy play date with one of my co-worker's dogs, Pojay. Pojay is under a year old and adorable. She is also super smart. Alison took her inside so we could see the tricks she has learned so she got out a slice of cheese. After The Pojay Show was over, Alison handed me the rest of the cheese to give to Brinkley. I looked at him, and jokingly said "sit", sarcastically showing off his "tricks". Instead, Brinkley decided to sit, which I can't decide he did to make me look stupid for doubting his abilities or smart by making me look good. Either way the dog sat on command. And has done so every time I have told him to since. Everyone in the room was stunned when he first did that, and I got asked "wait, have you already taught him that?!". Actually, no. I'm blaming the force again.

Apparently the force is super strong with Brinkley because he has mastered sit, and is working on up, down, shake, come, and stay. To encourage this behavior, I'm going to start trying to find Star Wars themed dog toys.

In fact I think I will make Rotta the Hut squeaky toy this weekend. You too can make it. Click here.

It's crazy to think what the dog would have been like had he come earlier or later. He would have been a really great wizard had he come earlier. Definitely able to conquer Voldemort, and steal Hermoine from Ron Weasley while he's at it. I'm honestly just a bit relieved he didn't come any later. I would hate for him to have come during the Twilight saga and be a dramatic, depressed, Kristen Stewart loving puppy who just wants to get bit by a vampire so he could fit in with his friends and lover.

Current Pics of Brink:

Posing in his "big boy" collar... which is actually his small collar. He already owns his medium and large that he will quickly grow into

He thinks cooking dinner is boring...

Lazy on the weekend

Peace, Love & Light Sabers,

Bec & Brink

A Week of Firsts

Tomorrow marks Brinkley and my one week anniversary. We are registered at Petsmart, Petco, Canine Commisionary, and WOOF!.

Besides it being our first week, it was also a week of firsts.

This week was Brinkley's first vet appointment. Can I just say that I have NEVER felt like more of a grown up than at that appointment? I mean Brandon and I were really treated like absolute adults. We even got asked, "Is this your first puppy?". I'm pretty sure he could have figured that out by the stressed and panicked look on my face, but I appreciate him going ahead and amusing me with the question. The actual appointment went well. He got his first check up, his first nail trim, his first poopoo sample (I don't like the word fecal), his first dose of meds through the nose, and also his first round of shots. Brandon was there more for emotional support for me dealing with Brinkley getting shots, especially since he was so distracted by the puppy puffs the assistant was giving him that he didn't even notice that he got a shot at all. While he may have not felt the shot, he did feel the effects. By the time he was in the car, he could barely keep his head up. I regret not taking a video because Brandon was completely accurate by saying that he was the dog version of "David after Dentist". And if you haven't seen the video, then here it is.

David After Dentist....

Brinkley After Vet (by the way, this picture reminds me of the dying sheep in the movie Babe)...

This week was also Brinkley's first time to meet some very important people in his life. After the vet, he met Lady for the first time. My mom and dad love their granddogs very much and have somehow gotten the names "Lady" and "Man". The dogs go see their Lady and Man a lot, and get to play with them. My brother and I have become insanely attached to the names, and plan on forcing out kids to call them Lady and Man as well. Mostly because we find the idea of a 3-year-old boy waving at his grandparents and saying "Hey Lady!" "What's up Man" absolutely hilarious. It was love at first sight for the both of them and I'm looking forward to him joining the puppy family. He will now have his own stocking at christmas just like Nikki, Beau, Max and Major. Being a Lauten puppy also means the responsibility of being in charge of getting every family member underwear, pajamas or socks for each birthday and Christmas. Brinkley says he and Victoria's Secret are going to be BFF.

Brinkley also met his Godmother Becky on Wednesday. She came bearing Pupronni treats and a Petsmart giftcard! Yay for a giftcard to be spent on dog food, chew toys, tennis balls, and a puppy harness! Brinkley of course fell in love with his Godmother and they spent their night watching HGTV and playing with Mr. Lion. He was so excited about her visit, that he barely slept the night before, therefore was tuckered out by 8:30. Luckily, that meant cuddle time for Becky before she had to go home.

The first that receives the "Yay, You're a Golden!" award would be his first time to play fetch. One night, my brother saw Brinkley struggling to get something from under the couch. He seemed frustrated and very determined to get something. My brother looked under the couch and was surprised to see a tennis ball. What was more surprising was Brinkley's desperation to get this lime green ball that he had never seen before. It was almost as if there was a Star Wars type force between Brink and the ball. He become hypnotized by it, and wants to bring it everywhere with him. I started to throw it to see what he would do, and sure enough, he runs clumsily to get it, and brings it back. Hooray for finally finding a way to wear him out while still getting to watch TiVoed Grey's Anatomy episodes!!!

Now that I have mentioned Star Wars, I think I should mention now that anyone and their dog is invited to Brinkley's 1st Birthday Party! Sure, his birthday isn't until June 11th but it's never too early to plan. The theme will be Star Wars. Each dog in attendance must dress up. Brinkley says he claims Hans Solo, mostly because he likes to think he has Harrison Fords golden locks, and dreamy eyes. Don't worry, I'm already figuring out how to make him a blue vest.

Other firsts of the week that don't need to be explained are: first poop in the crate (you're welcome), first walk, first heartworm/flea medicine, first fight with the cat, and first run around the house with my underwear.

If I had to sum up the week in a word it would be exhausting. I don't get sleep as much as I get naps that are broken up by barking, whining, and potty runs outside. My new wake up time is significantly earlier so that we can play before work. My thoughts are interrupted constantly by thinking "where's Brinkley?", "is he eating a leaf, bug, or food?", and "when was the last time he peed?". But with the exhaustion comes unconditional love. It's hard to be unhappy about waking up at 5:30 AM when you have a dog licking your ear. Getting a whiff of his smell while I'm at work makes me smile. And watching him grow and learn gives me the pat on the back I need when I feel defeated. After a week with him, I am nothing but happy with the decision I made, and more excited about the years I get to grow with him.


Because Becky Long requested it (and she gets whatever she wants), here is a strand of photos from the week.


Brinkley says, "How u doing ladies"

Taking advantage of his few weeks of being small....

Finally, My Very Own Show Pony

On Saturday, August 6th, at 3:15 p.m., I laid my eyes on Brinkley for the first time. Since then, it has been hard to take my eyes off of him. The ride to get him was an anxious one, mostly filled with me either saying "oh my gosh", "this is really happening", or Brandon's personal favorite, "my fingers hurt".

It's hard to explain what I mean when I say "my fingers hurt". All I know is it happens when I am super anxious. It happened as Becky and I went through security at DFW on our way to Australia, and also on our last morning in Australia. It doesn't happen before big tests or important interviews. It only happens when my body somehow knows that my life is about to change in a big way. And the arrival of Brinkley Hanx has already been a big change. 

As I kept shaking my hands in the car on the way to Canton, I kept worrying about my decision making process...because, let's be honest....this isn't the most rational thing I've ever done. I wanted a dog. Rational. I looked through newspaper posts and online listings. Rational. I decided which one was perfect based on a picture. Irrational. I agreed to meet the owner halfway in Canton so I could exchange money for puppy without spending time with it before hand. Irrational. This all seemed fine until the drive over, and suddenly I was worried that this decision could suddenly bring more "I told you so" or "You weren't ready" comments in my life. Hence the finger hurting. 

But the hours before the fingers hurting were filled solely with excitement. I woke up way earlier than I needed to, and was instantly ready to get the show on the road. On the agenda that day was helping Brandon clean his old place, and finish moving stuff to his new place. But to prepare for the big day ahead of us was none other than Chickfila breakfast, because seriously, what gets you more pumped about a good day ahead of you more than the Chickfila nuggets covered in honey buttered biscuits?

The food was scarfed down, the cleaning and moving got accomplished at ninja speed, the drive to Terrell was the drive to Terrell, and then time was killed before getting the puppy by coloring with Brandon's niece Katrina. Finally, it was puppy time. 

As Brandon and I exited the highway and pulled into the McDonald's parking lot, things started to seem perfect as Brinkley's ride arrived at the exact same moment. His "babysitter" put him on the ground and what did he do? He peed. Perfect! He knows to take advantage of some green grass when he sees some. The exchange of goods was quite quick, and I have to admit that I think I got the better end of the deal. 

I hurried back to the car before his "babysitter" could change her mind and realize that she was selling the cutest puppy to ever set foot on the planet. Brandon pulled out of the parking lot and Brinkley was ready to get comfortable. Comfortable for Brinkley however was not in my lap. The puppy was on a mission to climb up my body and pretend to be a dead minx to hang around my neck. The two hour drive back was spent with a dog wrapped around my neck. Face on one shoulder, and feet on the other.

Proof:

The past 48 hours with him have been a blur. My goal has been to have him meet a good amount of people and animals, so that he can be a social and outgoing grown dude. His first human interaction besides with Brandon and I was with his neighbors at his apartment. As soon as we opened the door, the oohs and awws began...and they really haven't stopped since then. His Uncle Ryan, Uncle Chris, Aunt Lindsey, Uncle Jesse, Uncle Justin and Grandpa Steve have all given him lots of love. And I really can't blame them, because he is seriously the cutest thing ever. And that comment is completely okay for me to say because I had absolutely no part in creating such a cute living thing. I'm serious though, this puppy is just the epitome of cute puppies. And the good thing is that he is a classic dog. He is the apple pie of dogs. Who doesn't like apple pie?

The compliments haven't even been from just his family either, so you know they aren't just those "oh you're baby is cute (what is wrong with the shape of it's head?!) comments. A lady popped out of nowhere at Petsmart and began to ask questions about him. Brandon's neighbor holds out her hands in front of her whenever she sees the door open, ready to have him in her arms. The drive thru man at Cane's asked me to put Brinkley through the drive-thru window so that he could hold him. A cashier has asked to smell him. He is a huge hit. I have never felt so popular. 

Never have I had so many plans. I guess it's important to admit that they aren't for me, but for Brinkley, but still. This week he has Brandon come playing with him tomorrow afternoon before his vet visit. Wednesday, his godmother Becky is coming all the way from Fort Worth to meet him. Sunday he has a play date with a co-workers dog. Who knows what else is going to fill his schedule. 

As of now, I am trying to soak up everything Brinkley. The puppy smell, the little nibbles on the ear, and my personal favorite, the little noises he makes when you cuddle him against your chest. It is the most heavenly noise. My fingers are crossed that he will make that noise the rest of his life, but just in case I think I'm going to try and put a tape recorder on him so that I can have it forever. 

Since I can't stop him from growing up, I will just have to take hundreds of photos of him so that I can look back and see how much he has grown and how fast he managed to do it. Lucky for you, I am posting them on here so you can experience the amazingness of the cutest puppy on Earth with me. 

Exhibits A & B of the cutest puppy ever:

No Time for Being Original

Okay, so, here's the deal. I get a dog on Saturday. I'm naming him Brinkley. Yes, it's from You've Got Mail. Yes, he is the same breed. No, I don't care. In fact, I went the opposite way of trying to hide it, and I went ahead and bestowed Brinkley with the middle name of Hanx, in honor of my favorite actor Tom Hanks, who just so happens to be in You've Got Mail. I'm okay with all of this, and when I talk it over with Brinkley on Saturday, I think he will be too.

I went to the next level of being unoriginal by naming this blog Brinkley&Me. But to be fair, I've never watched the whole movie Marley & Me and I plan not to because I swear that a dog dying is almost always more sad than a human dying. Go ahead and judge me for saying that.

Anyway, I've been looking forward to this dog being in my life for a while. For the past year I have been constantly thinking about a dog, but I wanted all my ducks in a row. I wanted to be able to afford it, have time for it, and give myself time to grow some more patience. But I decided to screw patience and start living. I have got to stop planning and start doing. The doing starts Saturday. Until then is the last of the planning.

For having spent so much time dreaming about a dog, all of this has happened quite fast. Over the past 2 weeks, I have been searching websites and newspapers looking for my Brinkley. This past Saturday, at my Mad Men themed birthday party, Lindsey gave me a beautiful leather collar with a tag that had Brinkley engraved on it. That probably sped up the process some. On August 1st (my birthday), I came across a listing for Golden Retriever puppies for sale. I emailed and asked for recent pictures and got this in return:

She sent me other pictures, but this was the only one I was interested in. I knew immediately that this was my puppy. Brinkley, meet the world. World, Brinkley.

After 18 emails back and forth, it was decided that I would pick up Brinkley at McDonald's in Canton, Texas. And since the moment I have found that out, I have been preparing non-stop. How, you might ask?

-I have read 3 puppy specific books
-I am currently reading "Golden Retrievers for Dummies"
-I have ordered a puppy play pen and crate.
-I went to Petsmart (is it Pet-Smart or Pet's Mart?) and picked up 150 training pads (yeah buddy), a collar and matching leash, food and water bowls, training treats, and a few toys (including a super cute little lion).

I have also taken Petsmart's puppy quiz to see how well I know how to train my puppy. It labeled me an expert. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to sound cocky, but I'm doing everything I can to spike my confidence level about being able to handle this thing. My goal is to just not have my dog turn into my parents dogs, Beau and Nikki. I love the dogs, but they are clearly in charge of the house. I would tell you about it, but I think each dog will deserve its own blog post.

No matter what, my life changes Saturday. This dog is going to live a while. More than likely it will be around when I get engaged, married, and have kids (which is completely insane to think about). This change means a lot more responsibility. It means getting up earlier, dedicating my lunch break to something other than me, and more money on dog food and less at Anthropologie.

Words can't tell you how excited I am about this puppy though. And since this dog will be forcing me to grow up in a few different ways, I figured this is a good time to share those experiences with the world. This blog will be filled up with stories and pictures of me trying to cook, bake, and create. Who knows what this will turn into, but no matter what, I guarantee that Brinkley will be involved in it all.

Love to all,
Bec and Brink