We recently dog-sat my in laws’ doggie, Enzo, for a few weeks. Like Rocco, Enzo is a rescue dog. He came to them earlier this year, was around 2 years old, and is hand’s down the softest dog I have ever felt. Guys, this dog is like CASHMERE.
Enzo and Rocco are both some variation of a dachshund – Rocco is mixed with a Min Pin and/or Chihuahua, and Enzo might very well be 100% dachshund (do doxies have odd 6th toes, because this dog has weird extra toes hanging off his feet).
Enzo and Rocco – the Italian doggie mafia – are still feeling each other out and getting used to each other. They LIKE each other, but most of their time together is spent wrestling, playing tug of war, and then power napping.
One of Rocco’s and Enzo’s favorite past time is doing this:
FYI, that’s my innocent boy, Rocco, on the bottom trying to play with a stuffed rabbit while ENZO, the manipulator, takes advantage of him.
“What are they doing?” Little Mister asked me one time.
Me: “Enzo is giving Rocco a super special doggie hug.” (I know. I’m sorry!)
Little Mister: “Do they do those hugs at night?”
Little Mister: “Do they do them when they are in bed?”
Little Mister: “Do you and Daddy do those special hugs in bed, too?”
Fast forward to the night we had just picked up Little Mister from school, when he was telling us about the babies and astronauts.
Little Mister: “So there’s this astronaut who goes into outer space, and he saw me as a little baby and grabbed me! And he held onto me while he floated down to earth and then he carried me to the hospital and gave me to you.”
Yes, that’s exactly how it happened.
(Can someone get me a drink?)
Rocco and Enzo really do love each other:
Rocco is on the right, Enzo is on the left.
Most of the time, they fought for my attention…and my office chair.
For 3 weeks I was surrounded by wieners in my house; I was completely out-numbered.
And Enzo – god love him – was attached to me. He followed me to the refrigerator, to the bathroom and to bed. He whimpered when I put a gate up and he couldn’t come down the hall and see me. He spooned me at night in the big bed like we were on our honeymoon. And above all, he gave me those puppy-dog eyes that just melted my heart.
Unrelated – I think – was the night Little Mister asked me at dinner whether or not I was going to the hospital to “buy another baby”.
Flustered, I told him that, no, we weren’t going to buy another baby (has he no idea how much babies costs these days??)
To which he replied, “Ok. Can I have a snack?”
If that’s the worst of it, then I’m totally ready for the next stage of parenthood.