that pair of loving eyes, the stink of poop and urine, the early morning whimpers, the feeding times, the constant cries for attention, the fear of over or underfeeding, friends’ clamoring to see him.
and i’m not even talking about a child.
i’m talking about bono, jazz’s gift to me, and the latest member of our cuckoo-crazy home.
it’s a bit tough caring for a pet by ourselves. since we’re OC, tasks take twice as long, and overthinking and obsessing over details are a given.
he still has trouble remembering his name, but he’s so makulit he’s now familiar with the term “Bad!”
i have found myself groping for my computer mouse and reaching out to Google for help for potty training and discipline tactics while trying to subdue him. i didn’t condition it, but he’s grown fond of my hands and forearms as his teether.
he’s half pekingese and half shi tzu.
yes, you can say it aloud right to our faces: Bono is a…pek-shit.
(i can’t stop laughing, have to end this.)