There is a new little fellow in my life, as some of you already know.
He came as a surprise on Christmas Eve, from my husband and children. They were all in on the secret, even a few family friends were in on it. I had no clue.
But on Christmas Eve I was told to take a seat and close my eyes. I wasn’t exactly happy about this, since I was in the middle of doing some baking and was actually behind on my schedule for getting all things done before I had to go to bed. So I grumbled and wasn’t exactly a happy, compliant person.
But all my frustration at my family acting so strangely, and not understanding the pressure I was under ebbed away as a squirmy little ball of fluffy energy was placed in my hands.He was so wriggly and it took about a million tries to get that blurry picture of him.
I’d been wanting a Yorkie for years and now wriggling around in my arms and lavishing me with kisses from his tiny little tongue was the most darling Yorkie ever (I say that without any bias at all, smirk).
The next problem, a name. I had a list, but none seemed to actually fit this feisty fellow. Then one of my pals on Facebook suggested Wicket, as in the fearless, adorable Ewok from Return of the Jedi. Suddenly it clicked. This fellow has no fear. He’s full of energy, leaps in to situations (or off of laps without thinking) and he’s all manner of adorable.
And so Wicket came to live with us, well me really. He’s attached to me. He sleeps beside me. He goes into a major wiggle melt down if I leave the house or the floor he’s on and someone is holding him when I return.
Wicket loves my son Devlin, so much that he has a huge fit of freakish wiggleness when Devlin comes home from school.
He loves to chase our Belgian Malinois around the house, attacking his feet, his tail and may the Gods help Mal if he’s lying down because Wicket will climb and leap all over him. Mal is good with Wicket also, he chases Wicket and gently paws the little fellow. Wicket has not one tiny shred of ‘maybe I shouldn’t antagonize this dog that’s the size of brontosaurus, if you compare him to my little body’.
Wicket plays fetch, and he’s always searching for some way to misbehave. He’s always trying to escape through the fence in the backyard, that was dog proofed for Mal and Skye, but there are little cracks and gaps that a way smaller dog can just step through.
Wicket is kind of intrigued by Mals urination skills outside. Whenever the bigger dogs stops to empty his bladder, Wicket rushes over and has to investigate this liquid flowing under his big brother, and many times he’s actually walked right under the flow, causing me to curse and making it necessary to once again give the little gremlin a bath. Something he doesn’t seem to mind.
When walking Wicket to the park near our house we have to make our way along an alley way that has many large, deep potholes in it. Wicket hasn’t figured that out yet and has to leap into each and every pot hole, again making me have to bath the little fool.
Yes, in the few weeks that Wicket has been here, he’s had to have many baths already.
He has also destroyed one of Ceilidh’s old shoes, and that picture on the left there, the one where Wicket looks sort of evil and you can see he’s thinking about what sort of shit he can cause next, that picture was taken about five seconds after he had that shoe removed from him.
I don’t think he’s happy about losing his chew toy, even if it is a stinky old shoe.