A Reason to Stay Home

Nine months came and went and then one day I had a baby sister.  We all went to the hospital and looked through the large plate glass window to see what the new addition to our family looked like.  She was a miniature replica of my dad.  Mother was right.  She did have a little Indian in her.

What a difference having a new puppy or kitten or little person in the home makes.  It was a reason for me to come home and stay home.  She was the center of everyone's attention, and every single day she was doing something new and exciting.

"Oh, look! She's following me with her eyes."

"She just said 'Sissy.' Did you hear it?  Isn't that amazing for just two months old?"

"Would you look at that! She can hold her head up."

When she was nine months old, she was walking.  Judy and I would sit at opposite ends of the hallway and encourage her with Hershey's Kisses.  Chocolate Kisses were the treat of choice when trying to get our new pet to do tricks.

"Okay, Lynnette.  Wanna treat?  Put on Mommy's high heels and twirl around and around and around, but don't fall down and hit your head on the coffee table."

"Oh, don't cry.  I told you to not do that.  Yes, you can have a treat anyway.  Just as soon as we stop the bleeding."

"Wanna treat, Lynnette?  Go potty.  No!  Not here!  Over there! Good girl."

"What?  You want a treat?  Okay.  Sit.  Stay.  No, you have to sit and stay until I tell you it's okay to get up.  Sit.  Stay.  Good girl."

So that's how it went until I moved out when Lynnette was seven.  She'd learned all of the tricks I was capable of teaching her.  So, she was on her own.  Besides, the newness had worn off, I was in my twenties and had a life away from home, until...

... they got a puppy.