I wrote a week or so ago that we'd acquired a dog, and life has been interesting since then, to say the least. The kitchen is no longer our own particular space. It's dog home, at least for the time being. The dining area (which is normally now closed off to the puppy) is extra space for him when he's allowed in there, and when he is, you'd think he'd been given the keys to the kingdom.
As for going outside: we only have a relatively small back section, a good deal of it taken up with vegetable garden, and some flower gardens. Nevertheless, this is a huge world to Marley, and brings enormous excitement. It's full of aromas we can't even begin to imagine.
Cleaning up after him - he's improving in the toilet department - takes us back to the good old days of cleaning up after babies. There's not a lot of difference.
I spend a lot more time washing my hands, and I'm sure people think I'm starting to smell like a dog, but...it's all good.
At the other end of the spectrum, Jason Clark wrote about losing the dog he's had for a number of years. It says a good deal about dogs and God, and the space in between.