One of the nice things about naming a puppy Sadie is that it rhymes with baby. That comes in quite handy when calling for her, greeting her at the door and although I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, the name allows me to do a lovely rendition of “Sadie Baby” to the tune of “Santa Baby.”
I am doubly blessed at this prospect as it is yet another thing to drive the fam crazy and bring a smile to my face at the same time.
The best part of the rhyming name is passing puppy responsibility off to other family members. It’s not that I don’t cherish my moments with Sadie and love our bonding time, but sometimes, at the end of a long day of watching her run by, clutching my best shoes in her jowls, and wearing undergarments like a poorly fitting hat, a gal needs a break.
Sadly enough for our Charlie, he’s the only kid at home and as such, the Sadie Baby responsibility falls squarely on his shoulders.
Take last Wednesday night as an example. I knew the kid was coming off a long football practice and had several hours of homework looming on his horizon. But, as I explained to him, we all have responsibilities and let’s face it, my decorating magazines weren’t going to read themselves.
“Sadie is your baby,” I sang out to Charlie as he walked in the door.
“Ah c’mon!” he pro- tested as he took in the mess in the kitchen. Shoes were strewn about, socks littered the area and Sadie Baby had gutted an old stuffed animal with surgical precision.
“How long did you leave her alone?” he asked with frustration.
“Counting the 40 seconds that I was on the phone?”
Although he wasn’t overjoyed, Charlie is nothing if not good-natured and he does love his little dog. Therefore, he slung his oversized backpack across his shoulders, called, “Come on baby,” to little Sadie and walked out of the room with his little pup following behind and nipping at his heels.
It was something straight out of Norman Rockwell.
It’s not all bad with Sadie. She has potty trained well, keeps her food in the bowl and sometimes, she even sleeps.
When she’s good, she’s great. We sit, we bond and I scratch her little ears. I share my thoughts, inquire about hers and enjoy the intelligence in her beautiful eyes.
Then, without warning, something will come over Sadie. Her energy level soars and suddenly I’m longing for a Tylenol and a stiff drink and wondering if puppy Valium would be a marketable item.
One second she’s good as gold. She is loving and sweet and looks at you with understanding. The next she’s bouncing off the walls, terrorizing and wreaking havoc as she strategically plans what next to get into, destroy and obliterate.
Praise God Sadie doesn’t have opposing thumbs or nothing would be safe.
Yet, recently a calm came over Sadie. She sat when I told her, stayed for a long period of time and in general, was just about as cute as she could be.
The calm seemed to last and I felt we had truly rounded a corner. Things were shaping up, or so I thought until early yesterday morning when Sadie came running through the room like her hair was on fire.
She jumped over the couch in a single bound, landed squarely on my husband’s work boot, hoisted it above her head and then carried it like an odd shaped hat and paraded it down the hall as if time were of the essence.
“Wasn’t that something?” I calmly asked of the room as I took a sip of my coffee.
“Sure was,” Charlie replied as he commenced to collecting his school belongings. “And the best news,” he said as he kissed me on the head and prepared to head out the door, “is that today, Sadie is your baby.”
If I had the chance to do it all over again we would have named Sadie “Mayer.” Certainly something that rhymes with terror might have been a better fit.
Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book “Are We There Yet?” You can reach her by sending an email to loriclinch2010@gmail.com.