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When Wally Becomes Wallace

Grandma came for the weekend and met Wallace.

Wallace is the name that I dubbed Wally the not-so-little black havoc wreaker when he is being a particularly big havoc wreaker. Although my Mom did not know that was his name when I am in the throes of puppy frustration. She also dubbed him Wallace this past weekend after a day spent trying to stay one step ahead and ending three steps behind.

I called home on day two of John and my trip to San Diego and this was part of the conversation:

"Hi Mom. How's it . . ."
"Now I know why, when you say you can't get anything done you really can't! He's into everything . . ."

She went on to tell me about a book or two that had been destroyed, a trellis in the backyard that is more like a plant stake now, the battered and bruised bananas that Wally got off the counter and carried around, the newspapers torn to shreds . . . well you get the picture.

"He's like a toddler," she exclaimed, "getting into everything if you don't give him attention!"

Oh, how her tone seemed different than when she arrived on Thursday night - Wally's calmest and most adorable time, nighttime. She looked at him and commented at how cute his face was and how it would be a difficult face to say "No" to; I do believe there was a whole lot of "No!" going on last weekend!

God created babies and puppies to be absolutely adorable so that humanity and  dogs would survive as species. We can put up with a whole lot when because they are so, so cute! (I also think God gave us a form of memory loss so that we'd forget the pains of childbirth, exhaustion of the infant and toddler years and the tribulations of raising a puppy).

Mom boarded her train this morning ready to return home for some rest - and that's one of the reasons she used to most enjoy coming here for visits was the rest and relaxation.

I just hope she comes back!

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