My heart got stretched


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This post is sponsored by Just Right Pets by Purina. All opinions are my own.

He’s not my dog.

He’s not.

I said no to getting the dog.

Actually… I said, “You can have the dog, but it means no ballet for the rest of the year to pay for the dog.” She chose ballet.

Then Daddy and she made a pact about Christmas money and the two of them bought the dog. For her. Her dog.

Someone needs to tell the dog that he is NOT MY DOG.

Boudreaux is a 10.5 month old bulloxer puppy. Yep, it’s a thing. Half boxer, half American bulldog. 100% pain if you ask me.

I mean, he’s getting better, but (insert eye roll) he’s SO MUCH PUPPY.

He pulled the WHOLE BOTTOM RACK OF THE DISHWASHER OUT with dishes IN it. Not kidding. Proof.

We’ve finally come to an understanding whereby IF I run him each morning approximately 3 – 3.5 miles minimum, THEN he will NOT bark incessantly or drag the pugs around by the collar or use the living room as a racetrack while channeling some inner greyhound fantasy that he’s apparently harboring.

However, because I am the one who feeds him, runs him, takes him in the car for rides to and from school, takes him out to potty in the middle of the night and all day long, he has decided that I am his. I cannot understand why? (This does cause some issues in the house when he blatantly displays his outright favoritism.)

And while for the first 9 months that we’ve had him, I’ve purposefully tried not to get attached (he’s NOT my dog after all), he went and did THIS.

Darn dog.

I was packing for a business trip and he put his favorite toy in my suitcase.

And my heart literally melted.

After I took the toy out, he climbed in.

On all the other business trips, I’ve publicly celebrated the joy that the vacation from puppy has allowed me, but this time, I found myself missing — actually missing — the big poop-eating, bed-hogging, lug.

And I’ve noticed he’s started pouting every time he sees me getting ready to go somewhere. He curls up in my spot on the bed and gives me this look.

I mean, can’t you just see his bottom lip sticking out?


So yeah. I now might be guilty of sneaking only him a few bites of caramel corn while I’m confident the pugs can’t hear my traitorous ways. I’ve stopped yelling at him for opening the door to the potty while I’m doing my business and I’ve settled it in my mind that him being able to open the front door all by himself will come in handy in an emergency. Seems fitting that because he’s such a unique little toot, he should get a uniquely blended custom dog food too. That’s why he loves his Just Right Pets food from Purina. is so easy. Create a profile of your dog that includes his/her breed(s), age, activity level, allergies, etc. You can even pick flavor profiles that he loves (the kinds that are good for him, not the dirt, frogs and water bottles that I take away from him on the daily) and based on the recommended feeding guildelines, you can have it auto-delivered on a time-frame that won’t stockpile your pantry. I love that it’s coming from a brand I can trust AND that it’s personalized – all the way to the photo on the bag.

With natural, premium ingredients, a focus on the science behind the food, and strict quality and safety standards, I can let the experts a Just Right by Purina worry about him getting the right diet while I worry about where he’s put my other sock.

I may not have wanted puppy, and it’s been a looooonnnnngggg few months in between the cute little puppy and the terrorist that he’s been in-between, but I do think there’s some light at the end of the tunnel. Oh, don’t think he’s getting any more beds to chew up anytime soon, but that wiggle butt has definitely stretched my heart to a bigger size.

Boudreaux and I are brand insiders for Just Right Pets by Purina. All opinions are my own.

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