Dog-sizing

When Babe-O was born we had three dogs. Now we have two. Lola is the oldest, a sassy buff-colored cocker spaniel who has always been Amy's dog. Maggie Mae is a Golden Doodle, big and goofy with a heart of gold. (Our youngest, Jack went to live on a farm after biting me in the arm. I still have the scar and every time I look at it I get a little sick knowing that the mark -- or worse -- could have been on Babe-O's face. Click here for that whole story.)

My parents have always been dog people and recently had to part with their very cool, one-of-a-kind English bulldog, Elizabeth. They are now in the market for a new dog and we have been talking about giving them Maggie Mae.

Here's the thing. Maggie is my dog. I stinking love her like you wouldn't believe. However, life with a baby and two dogs often gets hectic and we can't help but wonder how much happier she might be with my parents, where my home office Dad will be with her all day long and she won't have to compete with a sixteen month old baby for attention.

Having two dogs is a lot different than having one. It is a pain to go on a run with two dogs. They chase each other around the house. They get out of control excited when people come to the door. Maggie barks. They track dirt and mud into the house such that it is almost impossible to keep the floors clean for more than about an hour at a time.

During the spring thaw, the downstairs floors need to be mopped literally two or three times a day just to keep them from being a complete wreck from all the mud. Not to mention wet dogs all over the furniture.

Maggie is very sweet and my parents have always taken a liking to her. We'd never just get rid of her outright, but given the chance to place her in a great home where we know she'll be well taken care of...we're considering it.

Here's the best way I can put it. When we had to give Jack up, I spent our last day playing with him with tears in my eyes. It absolutely broke my heart to turn him over to the new owners...in fact I couldn't even do it, instead taking Amy's Dad up on his offer to make the hand-off as I said goodbye to the little guy in a gas station parking lot.

Anyway, the point is that it broke my heart, but (and I still hate to admit this) things were better once he was gone. The house got quieter, things were less hectic, and I no longer had to spend an hour a night playing fetch with him just to tire the energetic little bastard out.

Now we can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be a one-dog family once again. Two dogs bounce off of each other competing for attention, which is admittedly scarce since Amy and I both dedicate so much time to the baby. One dog would be more likely to curl up on the couch while we played with the kid and settle for a head pat instead of jumping up and down getting under everyone's skin.

One dog is no big deal to drop off with family if we're going away for a weekend, while two is an obvious and ridiculous imposition.

The list goes on, but you get the idea.

So we're thinking about it. My parents are on board with adopting Maggie, especially keeping in mind that if the transition doesn't go well, we'd certainly take her back.

I stinking love this dog. If we do give her up, I will be upset. But I have a feeling that once we had Maggie Mae living happily with my folks, our little family would be a little better balanced for it. Okay, a lot better balanced.

And right now, we're really looking for every chance we can find to dial things back and make it easier to focus on our little family.

Right now I guess all I can say about it is that Maggie Mae is the best dog I've ever known, and we're taking a deep breath and trying to do the right thing for all of us.