I feel a bit like a new mom

I feel a little bit like a mom with a new baby. Life, it seems, will never be the same.

No, Mrs. Griz and I are not proud parents again. We do have three more grandchildren on the way, but no babies of our own since we have already collectively added more than our share to the world's population and its troubles with our 16 kids and now with their kids -- somewhere around 18 and soon to be 21 and counting.

Yet, I still feel like a new parent. I can't do anything without wondering and checking on the little one. I've even been getting up in the middle of the night to cries or whines indicating it's time to slip on my shoes and take the little one out in the back yard for a bathroom break. Yes, it's not a new grand baby but a new puppy.

It all started when my twin daughters, in their mid-20s, moved in with their dog and then, after a little over a year, moved back out on their own, taking their dog with them. Well, even though Mrs. Griz and I were not heart broken to see their dog go -- or to see our daughters back on their own -- our dog seemed to be. She laid by the front door, just waiting for my daughters and their dog to come home.

After some time had passed -- several months, now -- Mrs. Griz and I became concerned. It seemed that our dog was depressed and lonely without a second canine friend around for company. We worried a little that she might just lay down and give up on whatever it is that dogs dream about when they dream. We contemplated and discussed a second dog, even visiting some shelters and contacting some folks who had rescued dogs of the same breed as ours, but we just weren't quite sure. That's when it happened, another daughter called with two puppies available. She was keeping one and wanted to know if we would take the other. I paused a bit but said yes and later wondered what I was thinking that night.

Anyway, she kept both pups until we could arrange a rendezvous -- she lives more than 500 miles away. That happened two weekends ago when we met our grandson on a visit to central Oklahoma. He gave us the puppy -- her name is Sassy and she lives up to it -- and life just hasn't been the same since.

Now I know why older people -- I didn't say "old" -- have grandkids instead of kids. I had forgotten how much work little ones can be, and the puppy doesn't even wear diapers. I do remember diapers, both changing them and washing them and sometimes even hanging them out on the clothesline. I might be able to safely say that I've changed more diapers than most moms, considering two sets of twins and, it seems, at least one child in diapers for about 20 years.

Now, in addition to the trips outside at all hours to housebreak the pup -- which seems to involve me being well-trained and housebroken to know when, and the pup enjoying the outdoor excursions until she finally gets the hang of it herself -- I hear the pitter-patter of four little feet following me wherever I go. When I go to my easy chair, the little one sometimes even beats me there so she can play or sleep on my lap -- no one else has ever loved to fall asleep with her head tucked under my arm pit.

When I go anywhere for any length of time, it seems I have to pack my truck with supplies. There's the dog carrier, food, water, leash and a few toys to keep her occupied so I can drive or work or whatever I need to do. Perhaps I should keep a diaper bag packed with the supplies I need and in the truck so I don't have to haul things in and out of the house.

Maybe all the exercise is good for me. The new pup forces me to get up from my desk and computer a lot more often and catch a breath of fresh air or throw a ball or a toy. That can't be all bad for a guy who tends to just keep working and working without a break until the job is done -- kind of like my truck driving days when the only way to make money was to "keep the pedal to the metal and the left door shut."

I'm not sure if our dog of four or five years is too thrilled with the addition. They get along great together and spend time playing tug-of war and wrestling, but there are times when our older dog just wants a break. She hides in the bathroom or in another part of the house where she seldom went before and tries to squeeze in a nap before the puppy pounces on her, nips at her ears or runs circles around her barking and growling to come play again. And yes, she is a little jealous of the attention the youngster gets and wants her usual share of head pats and belly rubs.

I suppose, if I wanted to, I could get out of the whole deal and not have to go through all the work of training a new pup. Another daughter, only 280 miles away, saw our new addition's picture and told me that her family is looking for a puppy. The thought of a quick trip to see her did cross my mind, but then what would my older dog do? She might slip back into depression again and wait by the front door. And me, I might not get the exercise and breaks I really need.

Randy Moll is the managing editor of the Westside Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 03/26/2014