So, if you have been following along in my saga of potty training, you may remember that I promised Tennessee a dog if he started pooping on the potty. He did, so I did. She was found outside of Portland proper near a vineyard. After much debate, we named her Minnie. She is bigger than small and smaller than big with a black coat and a ginger undercarriage. I am afraid that I am already terribly in love with her. She is a menace to dear Sally Alice the cat, and she has no respect for the potential danger of a car, and she is kind of smelly (I figured I should wait to give her a bath until she got used to living with us), but she is the cutest dog I have ever met. Ever.
Now I have a whole other being to feed and clean up after. I thought I would feel a little resentful. Before we committed to keeping her I thought long and hard about all of the drudgery involved in dog ownership. But the truth is she is so sweet that I don’t really mind. She doesn’t screech and bicker with her siblings (I have no idea where her litter mates are and quite frankly I do not care). When I ask her to do something, she doesn’t always listen, but she never says “Awwww, but momma I don’t wanna sit or stay!” She waits until I get out of bed to start making requests. She doesn’t leave cast off articles of clothing strewn hither and thither. In fact she abstains from wearing clothes at all, thus creating no laundry what so ever. I like that about Minnie. The very best part about having this new fancy dog though, is that just when the top of my head is about to fall off from a day full of family life and the joys of rearing small children, I get to take her for a nice loooong walk while Kenneth holds down the fort. I think once we get this cat vs. dog thing worked out, this Minnie dog may be my new best friend.
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