Okay. I know I'm likely to get flamed for the title, and content, of this article. But I just have to vent.
Puppies suck. And I'll tell you why: No household pet on the planet is more destructive, less disciplined, and smells worse (all the time, not just occasionally like a skunk) than a rotten, god-forsaken, evil little puppy.
In 34 years, I'd never had a puppy. I remember growing up with dogs, but they spent most of their time in the back yard, and came into the house only during sever weather. And they were all adult dogs, which is a totally different case than that of a puppy. But three months ago, I made the fatal mistake of letting my wife convince me (through much whining and double-talk) of going with her to look at puppies. A breeder in town had an "accident" when her pug had a secret tryst with a neighborhood dachshund, resulting in five odd little monsters. They were cute, and particularly well-behaved when we went to see them (cute puppies are pure evidence of biological evolution; if not for their cuteness, man would have slaughtered puppies into extinction long ago), so I gave in and said she could get one and bring it home.
Not a day has gone by since when I haven't regretted the weakness of my resolve.
More than half of my two-year-old daughter's toys are permanently ruined. And if she wasn't growing out of her clothes as quickly as we bought them for her, she'd be suffering on that front too. I've had to buy three pairs of shoes in three months, my wife two. Not an inch of carpet has escaped the puppy's bodily discharges. The leather couch we bought less than 18 months ago looks like we got it from Goodwill. Our cats live in constant and debilitating fear. Our back yard looks as though we've been invaded by a vicious family of dire-gophers.
I read somewhere that serial killers often practice their craft on puppies when they are young. I think the mental health profession has it backwards: I believe puppies drive perfectly sane and well-adjusted youngsters into raving sociopaths.
I'm at my wit's end. I spend more time cleaning up after my "adorable" little mutt than I do any other single thing in my life. I'm hoarse from yelling at her to stop jumping in my daughter's face ever six seconds. My wardrobe is ruined to the point that I look like a vagabond when going to work. Try as I might, I cannot get the smell of her, or her excrement, out of my house. Etc, etc.
Puppies suck.