Let sleeping dogs lie

All my life, I've heard "Never wake a sleeping baby or dog." Jacob doesn't seem to get that principle, no matter how much I explain it to him. Today he began to itch ferociously at day care and since the school were getting ready to go on a field trip, the teachers didn't think it wise for him to go. So I got him about one o'clock. Things were fairly peaceful--his mom brought some Benedryl (if I thought it would make him sleepy, I was sadly mistaken), he played with the puppy and then ran to give the big dog love, and I read a book. About three o'clock I decided to nap and insisted that I was putting Scooby in his bed and Sophie in her crate. I gave strict instructions that he was to stay in the backroom, lie on his bed, and watch TV, except in the case of emergency, by which I meant fire or some other drastic thing. Of course I hoped he'd go to sleep.
I'd doze off and then hear a noise and open my eyes to see Jacob loving on Scooby (Lord knows the poor dog needs a lot of love these days, having to put up with a puppy). Then I'd see him at the crate, and he'd say "Let her out. She's not sleeping." My reply: "She would if you'd go away." Jacob jumped on the bed, put his face by mine, and said, "But I love her so much." Another time, when I had again dozed off, he took a flying leap and landed on me--an abrupt awakening.
I tried to explain that if he woke the dogs and got them worked up, they'd both have to go outside to pee, and it was just too hot. "Uh uh," he said with firm conviction, "they won't." Of course, the puppy was desperate to go out. Jacob said he'd take her, but he was out and back in so fast my head spun. "Did she pee?" "Nope." So I took her back out and the first thing she did was pee.
At one point, Jacob tripped over the pup right in front of me and said to me, "I'm telling on you!" When I asked what I did, he said, 'You tripped me." Yeah, sure, that's what grandmothers are for.
Lord give me strength. I can handle a five-year-old boy, and I can handle a ten-week pup, but I'm not sure about the two together.
Jacob has gone home to a late supper, and there is one exhuasted pup sleeping at my feet. The cat stayed aloof from all this and is hiding I know not where--wise cat! And oh yes, Jacob stopped itching the minute I got him home, although going out in the heat with the pup did make him itch again. Who knows?

The naming of puppies

It may not be as difficult as the naming of cats, but naming puppies presents problems. I named my new Bordoodle Sheba, because I'd once had a farm collie (sort of, to me, a mutt Border Collie) named Sheba, short for Bathsheba Finkelstein (that is another long story not for here). But this pup looks nothing like my Sheba of forty-five years ago. Nor does she looke like a Sheba of any kind. Lots of names were put on the family table today--I discarded Roxie, although Mel, Maddie and Jamie voted for it, because I once knew a wonderful woman named Roxie who died tragically. Chloe and Zoe were considered, but I have a friend named Chloe. I discovered in the pup's papers that  though the breeder just called her Pink, her kennel name was Matilda Pink. Matilda might be shortened to Maddie (my granddaughter) but Tillie or Tillie Mae offered possibilities. Edie held out for Sophie, and that's beginning to sound good to me. In fact, I've been trying it out tonight.
I'm deep in the throes of introducing a new pup into an established household structure. When I got home this afternoon, all three animals needed attention at once--Scooby to come in out of the heat, Wywy to be fed, and Sophie to explore the house. Scooby lifted his leg on the pup (fortunately poor aim) as if to say, "Just want to be sure you understand whose house this is," and Wywy had one of his hissing fits--good thing he has no claws. I just now picked the puppy up which immediately made Wywy demand food. The pup escaped her playpen, but I have since connected the loose corners the right way and think all is well. She is happy as a lark with people around, but she whines like a Banshee if left alone in her crate or playpen. Last night, with the crate on my bed, she slept all night with one break to eat, potty, etc. And she let us all nap for an hour this afternoon--that's a habit for Scooby, Wywy, and me. We'll see what happens tonight, but I think for the first half day we've settled into a fairly good routine. Right now both dogs are lying at my feet, peaceful as can be. I'm trying to share the love.
A confession: I'm exhausted.
Many thanks to Jordan for making the trip to Frisco, to Jamie and Mel for being so hospitable to a new puppy in their two-dog, one-cat household and for treating us to delicious meals, to my granddaughters for absolutely loving Sophie and carrying her around, and to Jacob for wanting so badly to be part of holding her, training her, caring for her. It will be hard for him to learn, a bit at a time, that she is my dog, I will share, but he must accept what he can and can't do. I have a great family.