Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "Bree does not like me."

Me: "I know it seems that way, Miksa. Just give Bree some time."

Miksa: "(...)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Bree, this is Miksa. Miksa...Bree."

Bree: "What is it?"

Me: "It is a puppy, Bree...an Alaskan Malamute puppy, like you."

Bree: "Oh, my DOG! It's white!"

Me: "Still, HE is a Malamute, Bree."

Miksa: "You are big, Bree."

Bree: "It peed on MY BED! Take it BACK!"

Me: "This is Miksa's home now, Bree. We need to be a little patient with him. He's a baby...only 8 weeks old."

Miksa: "I want my Mama."

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Miksa: "I am scared. I want to go home. I need my Mama."

Me: "I'm sorry you are afraid, sweet puppy. I promise to take care of you and love you forever. This is your new home."

Miksa: "(...)"

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Me: "Oh, my. Look at that little face. We should call him Miksa. (Inuit word meaning "soft snow.")

Miksa, Bree, and Me

Bree: "I love you, my beautiful girl. You are the best!" 

Bree: "I'm the best Malamute, ever?!!"

Me: "You are, Bree! I love you so much, that I've decided to get you a companion!"

Bree: "Um. What?!"

Me: "Yes, Bree. I will be bringing home a new puppy for you!"

Bree: "But. Well. That's entirely unnecessary...gulp."

Me. "In a few days, Dad and I will be driving up north to pick up your sweet little companion!"

Bree: "I...aw...a BABY?! I don't think I'm cut out to be a mother! Isn't that why I decided to let you get me fixed?! I thought we had an understanding!"

Me: "Aw...sweet Bree. You'll be fine."

Bree: "..."