Wreck-It Ralph

I *hate* Ralph. It was because of Ralph that I spent the day trapped in my bedroom.  Why? (You ask.) Are you ill?  No. Only sick in the head...because I said yes to having a puppy in the house.  A "gift" from the ex-spouse to the children.  A horrible, terrible gift.  A gift that kept growing...and growing...and eating...and chewing...and now, barking.. incessantly barking.  Why? Why does he bark? Because he is a 9 month old herding dog type creature who should be living on a farm in Scotland and NOT living in suburbia even with a walk a day.  Let me tell you how we "acquired' said puppy....


Eight months ago the Ex's dog had puppies.  Apparently, she got knocked up while out roaming around even though the Ex knew she was not spayed.  (Shocking that the Ex is still so irresponsible when it comes to birth control.) So, yeah, puppies...puppies who would be 8 weeks old just when my kids would be returning home from a month long summer visit with their dad. They begged, pleaded, cried, begged some more and tried to bargain for my permission to let them have one of these puppies.  And this is all BEFORE they even saw the puppies.  I adamantly, without question, unequivocally said "No way in Hell." I am a single, working, full time mom of three children, a border collie, a cat and a few dead fish.  I do not, repeat, do not want a puppy.  Because, I know that cute little puppy will rapidly lose his appeal and who will be stuck with caring for him? Me.  So I stood firm amongst the crocodile tears, the promises of daily walks, the we-were-robbed-of-a-true-childhood-because-we-never-had-a-puppppppppyyy pleas. I declared to the unsympathetic, mastermind behind this, the Ex, that No! I will not allow a puppy to return with them and I'm telling you this now, before they even get there. No. Stop asking, stop encouraging, and stop just generally being an ass about this. No. We have a dog.  I do not want two. You can see how far that got me...

The chitlins spent a month away from me. I wasn't accustomed to more than a 48 hour absence that occurred, maybe, once a month.  I missed them, but I held firm against their nearly daily pleas to let them bring home a puppy...until the last day.  The god-forsaken last day.  They called me, begging (I stood firm), sent me pictures, pleading (It's not that cute of a puppy), made promises (I knew they'd never keep).  I stood my ground! And then...they emailed me a frickin' contract.  Signed, all our love (pleasseee, mommy)...  I caved (even though I was 99.9% sure the Ex wrote the damn thing).  Let me explain myself. I know it wasn't rational!  But...I'm a lawyer.  A true believer in contracts.  Educated to be a purveyor of the written word.  I missed them, I wasn't thinking rationally! But at least I had something I could waive in front of them and demand they walk the puppy and do poopy pickup before playtime.  They were bound by their promises -  In writing! So, I said yes.  Against my better judgment.  And yes, they were soooo happy. They expressed their undying love for me, that I was the best mom ever, yadda yadda yadda.   And for a fleeting moment, I really thought I was.  Here is one of the pics they sent me (ok, he was a cute puppy):

Ralph (aka Wreck it Ralph) has been here for 8 months ...of hell.  He, like all puppies, rapidly outgrew his adorableness and grew into a dog.  A 55-pound, all muscle, bullheaded destruction machine.  Of course, the kids have not held up to their end of the contract (unless I scream, yell and threaten).  I am tired of yelling, tired of feeling bad for a dog that doesn't get the attention he deserves, and tired of hearing him bark, chew, fart and pee.  I'm tired of hiding in my room afraid to open the door for fear of disturbing him and setting off another volley of barking.  He is going back to from where he came ...the Ex.  He can deal with his "gift" and the mud.