Tuesday, November 9, 2010
I never thought I'd get another dog after *Che. But then I never thought I'd marry again, either. Not that I'm putting dogs and husbands in the same category. I swear I'm not.
Maybe it was the persuasive essay Claire wrote for school about wanting a dog. Maybe it was just time. Whatever it was, Michael and I began our dog search about three weeks ago. We kept it under wraps from everyone, including Owen, our cat; I'm thinking we should've given him a heads up on this.
We saw big dogs and little dogs, furry dogs, and skinny dogs.
Then we found Chewy.
This is Chewy, our new dog. We brought him home yesterday. Claire was completely surprised. Dad too. Owen is holed up in a basket in Dad's closet, muttering under his cat breath.
Our mantra is Owen and Chewy are best friends. Owen and Chewy are best friends. Try chanting this throughout your day for the next week or so. It might make work more fun. And we could use the help. Chewy is very friendly. He just wants a sniff. But the only dog Owen ever loved, like a best friend, was Che. Now he has to start over with a seven month old puppy?
Here's the thing:
It was the ears that clinched it.
*read "Missing Che" (March 16, 2010)