Well…it’s been so long since I’ve put anything meaningful here that I hardly know where to start. Since one of my best posts was about Gunner, I’ll update you on the dog side of my life…it’s as good a place to start as any.
About six months after I had Gunner put down, I really started feeling the absence of a dog around here. But I was, frankly, afraid. Afraid I’d choose another dog who would kill other pets I love, afraid no dog would ever find me loveable, afraid Steve would not want a dog (and what I mean here is that he would REALLY not want a dog and refuse to allow one in the house), afraid I’m an awful dog mom…pretty much any neurosis that could develop did for a while. But I had a list of qualities I wanted in a dog, and I decided to start looking.
I wanted a smallish dog, male preferably, that could easily live in the house with us…no more yard dogs. I wanted a dog that would swim with us. I wanted a pup so I could take it to obedience classes. That’s not too much to ask, right? So I started asking for the right dog to turn up in my life.
There is a middle part to this story that I’m going to skip because it’s awful, but here’s how the story ends: I have a little Yorkshire Terrier. She’s as cute as she can be and has been through puppy obedience. She has been in the pool exactly once and is not really a fan. So while I got only about half of what was on my list, but I can say with certainty that the right dog has turned up in my life. Even Steve is quite taken with her, and I am starting to think a second dog (AFTER Alex’s wedding) might be a great idea. I mentioned this to Steve and he did not laugh or run screaming from the room. So I’ll leave it to you to guess what I’ll be writing about in October (wow…a new dog will be WAY more fun than the Pumpkin Patch!).
One final thought: We ate steamed crabs on the back deck last night. They were splendid. But while we were eating, Steve pointed out a very large frog in the pool. Um. It was not a frog. It was what we are referring to as “a rodent” without being really specific about what sort of rodent it might have been. He scooped it out in the pool net and threw it into the back of the yard. It’s a good thing there were delicious crabs on the table or I might have lost my appetite. I know I should be totally repelled, but I actually feel sorry for the poor critter. It just needed a drink and it was not after our crabs. I will say, though, that I hope it never returns.
Oh! And since this is me and all, you know there’s got to be some snark, so here goes: Never mind. I chickened out. I’ll be snarky next time. This particular snark was so awful that it offended even me.