It’s practically a miracle I posted at all this week. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like a parting of the Red Sea or anything, but still miraculous in its own way. You see, whenever I sit down to write my blog, someone insists on sitting across my lap and napping on my keyboard. That someone is my new mutt, Wally.
Don’t worry, I won’t bore you ad nauseam with continued Wally blogs…Wally did this, Wally did that, yada, yada Wally….I promise to bore you only when he does something exceptionally cute or particularly irritating. Wait. He does both those things. Guess I’ll be boring you more than I planned.
We all have secrets. If you think you don’t, then you’re being secretive. Naturally, some secrets are juicier than others. Now don’t get too excited; my secrets aren’t all that juicy. You won’t learn that I’m in the Witness Protection Program from testifying at a mafia murder trial in Chicago. No, my secrets pale in comparison. Here, I’ll show you…
There are few things of which I’ve been certain. I’m the queen of indecisiveness. Mexican or Italian for dinner? Hmm…maybe Italian? Wear the beige or blue skirt? I guess the beige? What color should we paint the house? Don’t even go there.
In fact, one decision that actually came easy for me was to adopt our buff-colored Cocker Spaniel, Tequila. I suppose, to be truthful, it wasn’t actually my decision. Knowing my history and the fact that I would waver between dogs for days, my husband picked her and I nodded in agreement and relief. Good choice, Jim.
We had good intentions from the get-go and decided not to feed her fattening table scraps. We bought the best dog food we could find and congratulated ourselves on not giving in to those pleading brown eyes under the dinner table.
Could someone please remind me again why we wanted a puppy? Now don’t get me wrong – he’s an adorable fluffy white ball of energy, with a golden-patch eye and a question mark tail. In fact, he’s the cutest thing since Brad Pitt. But, here’s the thing: he’s making us nuts.
Bailey’s first night at home
After Tequila, our Cocker Spaniel, died, we waited six months before adopting our newest addition, a Labrador/Australian Shepherd rescue named Bailey. My husband Jim chose him because he said he had the most “personality.” In other words, Bailey is a handful.
I treat my animals as legitimate family members and can’t imagine being guardian to a dog that isn’t practically attached to my hip. In fact, I never knew there were things like dog beds. Isn’t that why king-sized beds were invented? Continue reading
I have resigned myself to this fact: For approximately the next 15 years, I will never again own a piece of clothing that doesn’t have long white hair attached. And I suppose I’ll have to forget about wearing anything black. Too bad. I loved black. But now we have a dog, a mostly white dog.
Ever since we adopted Bailey, a now five-month-old Labrador/Australian Shepherd, the hardwood has looked like the floor of a popular beauty parlor exclusively patronized by strawberry blondes. When I can’t find him, I simply follow the chunks of soft fur. Continue reading