Tonight we adopted an 8-week-old Chesapeake Bay Retriever puppy, and so the adventure begins:

To be fair, he looked innocent

LURA: Welcome to your new home, little pup.

PUPPY: This looks interesting, lots of stuff to gnaw on, was that a cat I saw outside? Where do you keep the food?

LURA: It’s not time for dinner. It’s after midnight so that’s bedtime.

PUPPY: Ok, bedtime. Where did you put my brothers and sisters?

TIM: We didn’t bring your brothers and sisters, but you can sleep in this nice kennel crate with the soft blanket.

LURA: Here you go, little pup, into the crate.

PUPPY (throwing himself around violently): AHHHHHHHH! It’s the ninth circle of hell! AHHHHHHHH! Treachery! Torture! AHHHHHHHH!

LURA (to TIM): Ok, I’ll get a blanket and lay down with him next to the crate, maybe I can transfer him to it after he falls asleep.

PUPPY: AHHHHHHHH! Horrible! Horrible! AHHHHHHHH!

LURA (plucking puppy from crate): Here, little guy, lay down next to me.

PUPPY: *snuggle, snuggle, tremble, tremble* Where is my Mommy?

LURA: Yeah, about that, I’m what you got now.

PUPPY: Oh no, really? But you hardly have any fur and your bark is weird!

LURA: Yeah, sorry about that.

PUPPY: It’s probably not your fault. We’ll straighten it out in the morning.