For about twelve hours, I had an adorable little puppy.

I named her Gidget. She's a nine-month-old black Pug that showed up at my uncle's house a couple of weeks ago. He found her owner, but her owner told him to keep her.
He doesn't do inside dogs, so he was keeping her outside.

He gave her to me. I picked her up around 3:00 PM Friday.

She spent most of the day sleeping on my lap, in between determined attempts by Tiny, my elderly min-pin, to molest her. A couple of times she awoke long enough to playfully chew on my fingers a couple of minutes, then she was out again.

She crapped in the floor twice, and once in the bed. I had to get up in the middle of the night and throw my sheets in the washing machine.

At nine months, housebreaking was probably not going to happen.

And all the while, Tiny kept pestering her for some nookie. Finally, so I could get some sleep, I put her in the dog carrier. That worked for about half an hour, then she started whining and wouldn't stop.

So I brought her back to bed, and she decided she wanted to play by tunneling under me and nibbling at me. Constantly. For two hours. And wouldn't stop.

Sadly, I decided this wasn't going to work if she wasn't going to let me sleep. At two-thirty in the morning I loaded her up in the car and took her back to my uncle's house, letting her out without waking him up.

I guess I'm not meant to have another dog.