Or maybe you would...

The dudes love Hudson.

Workout gear.

 Actually, the ladies love Hudson too. I guess everyone loves Hudson. That is probably because he doesn't pee in their closets or chew holes in their underwear. Trust me. Your opinion of something totally changes the minute it starts chewing holes in your underwear.

Posing in front of a bookcase. 

Already, the four-month-old fluffy beast tips the scale at 40 pounds. He eats 700 grams of food per day, poops three or four times and pees approximately every 30 seconds.

Hitting the beach after a hard day at work.

Recently, we have been making significant headway when it comes to not peeing in the hallway/elevator/stairwell on our way outside. We have also improved 110% when it comes to not taking a dump in the backseat of the car. Now, I am saying "we," but that is just because I am being polite. To the best of my knowledge, I have not taken a dump in/on the back seat of a car or urinated in a hallway/elevator/stairwell in years. Decades even.  

Sleeping while at work. Typical.

Regardless, all of this learning is, of course, exhausting for poor Hudson. You would not believe how tiring it is being adorable, chasing your own tail and simply existing. 

It's not looking good though...

One of Hudson's favourite things to do, other than urinating in my apartment, is taking my dirty underwear from wherever it may be resting and chewing on it.  His evil puppy teeth easily pierce through the sensible cotton (or at least 95% of my underwear is made up of sensible cotton), creating ventilation I did not ask for or want.

My biggest problem with this is that underwear, for me at least, is a very finite resource. I only have a handful of pairs that I actually enjoy wearing. And because I have a tendency to do laundry somewhat infrequently, I like having a large number of underwear so that I do not run out of fresh pairs. The puppy choosing to snack on my drawers is really starting to have a negative impact on how I live my life.

"Maybe you should watch the puppy better and make sure he does not get the underwear in the first place," you may be saying to yourself. And I say shove it. I do watch the puppy, mostly. But he is like a mother fucking ninja (without the mother fucking part or the years of training required to be an actual ninja). That bastard is sneaky. And he is quiet (when he wants to be). I think he is right next to me, and it turns out that he is two rooms over quietly destroying precious family heirlooms. I mean, that example has never actually happened, but it is supposed to express to you that this dog is serious about his covert attempts to ruin lives via the destruction of my underwear.

I am hoping that he grows out of this phase as I do not really want to have to add "replacement underwear" as a line on my monthly budget. 

But I would rather he be helpful in other ways

I feel like puppies and toddlers are practically the same thing.
You just know that if one of those two things is around, and it is quiet where you all are, chances are you're going to find something gnawed on, eaten, ripped apart or urinated/pooped on. Either that or your puppy/toddler is sleeping (or, if you want to be super morbid, dead... probably from eating whatever it was gnawing on or ripping apart).

The benefits that puppies have over toddlers is that you can put a puppy in a cage and leave your house for several hours without having to fear that someone will take your puppy away. Not to say that you can't leave a toddler in a cage for several hours, but that sort of thing is largely frowned upon. Most especially if you actually leave the dwelling in which the toddler is situated.

The benefits that toddlers have over puppies is that, ideally, at some point in time they will start cleaning up their own feces. They will also likely be able to feed themselves later on down the road, and, if you die unexpectedly, a toddler is probably not going to resort to eating your corpse in order to survive. PROBABLY not.

Hudson has pooped in the back seat of my car twice. He has peed in my apartment at least five times. He has peed on the carpet at work somewhere between four and six times (once in front of the Executive Director!). He has gnawed on various co-workers (and even made one bleed), torn a hole in one of my skirts and reminded me that putting shoes away in the closet is the only surefire way to ensure said shoes are not chewed on. And, for some reason, one of his favourite past times is retrieving my dirty underwear from the clothes hamper and bringing it to me. It is almost as though he is saying, "Here. I am not sure if you realized that you left these in that tall basket over there. I am just bringing them back to you because they seem kind of personal. Also, I chewed on them to make a few holes because I thought you might want to make sure that area is especially well ventilated. You're welcome."