Testing my patience

Owning a labrador is a lot of work. And by a lot I mean hair pulling, door slamming, command spewing work. Lexi is in all respects, Marley. She barks constantly, sticks her head in the trash, pulls on the leash wherever we go and just last week she ate one of my favorite earrings. I am at my wits end with her and have tried absolutely everything from obedience school to leaving her with a trainer for an entire week. I'm tired of having to say "No Bark!" all day long and when she doesn't listen I have to put her in time out which doesn't do anything. I'm ready to pull my hair out. It is just too difficult trying to raise a 1 year old feisty labrador while pregnant and ALONE.

There are days when I beg Lieutenant to come home because I'm in tears from having to do everything on my own. I honestly don't know how I will ever survive a deployment with her and a baby. Living on the third floor of an apartment building makes things even worse. She doesn't have a yard and I have to walk up and down three flights every two hours to let her use the bathroom. With Lieutenant here, the responsibilities are shared. Sometimes I feel like giving up on her.

But then I remember that these days of teenage-hood will pass, and that one day when she's too old to fight me, she will learn to cuddle. I remember that she is loyal to us and loves us so much that she is a constant protector.

I will remember her as a baby:

And a teenager:

when she is old and tired and give thanks to her for testing my patience, giving me the practice of being a mommy to love no matter what.