Get A Puppy, They Said. It Will Be Fun, They Said

Zsa Zsa Gabor...I get you.

Leona Helmsley...I understand completely, girlfriend.

Thanks to the arrival of a 10 week old English bulldog puppy, I now understand why rich old ladies carry around tiny dogs.  Because (at least with my puppy) they're awesome and they can.

Am I completely glossing over the fact that when Reuben is in his spazzy, puppy play mode he's like a mini Tiger shark on a blood-soaked rampage of teeth and fur?  Yes.  Or when I was changing the bed sheets and he ran over and pissed on the comforter?  Yes.  Or the fact that his tiny bladder has him getting up every 2-3 hours to go out in the middle of the night? Uh huh.  Or when I was watching him like a hawk, blinked my eyes and he was gone, but a tootsie roll was deposited on my carpet right in front of me?  Youbetcha.

Despite all those things, our home now has the funniest, most personality-packed creature to date, even counting those Sea Monkeys I ordered from a comic book (That's saying a lot, because I'm such a sucker for brine shrimp!).  I'm trying my best not to post a million images of him, but I'm failing miserably and don't even care.  I have unabashedly set up an Instagram account, @Reubenthebulldog, just to have a place to put some of these pics.  Somehow, I'm able to delude myself that because it's my dog, it's different.  No WAY I've become one of those douchebags.  Wait...maybe I have, but...  DID YOU SEE WHAT HE JUST DID?  He was playing and rolled off the mat and flipped over.  How cute is that?

Anyway, he's been a reasonably good model so far and I need to get these shots now while he's cute and doesn't have that 3 inch underbite which I'm sure is coming.  Bear with me people as I pass through this really adorable phase.

Cheers!