April 12. Day 102. The wet spot

My carpet is a patchwork quilt of wet patches formed from the little accidents of my new puppy pal. Actually I'm pretty sure the word accident is totally misplaced. It rather implies something occasional, unfortunate and out if the ordinary. Nope, that's not the situation here. Strike out the word accident and replace with deliberate. Perhaps that's why I liked this leaf I spied in the city at lunch time. Little puddles everywhere. That's my reality right now. And that's not all.
Chew marks are evident on shoes, in soft furnishings and on my limbs. Can I just say that puppy teeth are bloody sharp? It's no wonder their mums kick then off the breast at such a young age. Ouchy.
In addition, getting dressed is something of a challenge when something small but furry thinks that what he is seeing is an invite to a tug of war game with every item of clothing you try and put on.
So you might be thinking that the puppy honeymoon period is well and truly over.
Not so. I'm not saying I enjoy puddles of puppy piddle but I forget them in the blink of an eye when I open the door and this little furry ball of cute comes charging down the corridor to meet me tail wagging furiously.
A dog breath lick on the face and I know longer notice the chew marks in the sandals.
That unconditional love that a dog has for its human is special enough to make you forgive and forget the wet spot on the floor.
I mean accidents happen right? You can't let such wee matter get in the way.