This. Is what happens when you accidentally leave two doors open: Your bedroom door and your adjoining bathroom door, leaving them to the mercy of a small terrier puppy, still the intruder two months on. It also helps if you possess the leg reflexes of a greyhound and have the speed of a champion racehorse. Both of which, I do not.
This dog can run about 4 times the average speed of a human (we won’t talk about how I had to stop traffic about a block from my house — and by traffic I mean I first had to run in front of a big rig — for 30 minutes to catch the bloody thing because my 4-year-old accidentally let him out). And, he has hydraulics in his hind legs, to boot.
I think the addition of the sock was genius. The dexterity that took to grab it from the hamper on the way in is just incredible.
The draw of school sales
“Let’s go to the mall” I chirped
First, The Children’s Place
Next stop, Gymboree
Nothing really stood out there
I left and walked on
The pet shop? Our zoo
The kids love to look around
“Would you like to hold one?” she quipped. Bryan gave me that look. He’d spied the Cairn terrier. “Yeah, how about that little one?” She brought him out and I waved off any fear there was in being roped into a purchase. I held the little scraggy thing and melted, we put him back and wandered off for some Subway dinner and talked. We’d come for t-shirts! Did we really need a dog? We were leaving on a road trip in FOUR days, that would just add to the stress!
I walked back in alone to look at him and think about it. We already have a bird and he’s much more versatile than a dog! I don’t have to worry about a bird if we leave for hours or go on vacation… I like my carpets and couches poop-free and unbitten,
“So what do you think?” she asked, smiling at me like the Grinch. Eventually I said, “alright, let’s do it.” That was a week ago. I must be insane, it’s like having two 18-month olds! His name is Toby and he’s 4 months old. He’s so stinkin’ cute.
He out-did me one day of my prediction, but sadly Shawn passed away this morning at 08:42. As of yet, unfortunately no next of kin have come forward. Funeral services were held shortly thereafter in Il Latrine where he was given a washed out send off. Presumably he was met by his long-time tank friend and sparring buddy, Shane. Swim on my friend, swim on.
In the days preceding his untimely death, medicative assistance was sought after at the local pet menagerie and digestive staples supplier. As it was, Grosvenor was met with, “Ucht, they’re just cheap feeder fish — trash.”
This, as the pint-sized squires watched on.
“I could sell you the medication but it’ll cost you $7. Grunt. Groan. They’re not worth it anyway. Come back in a few weeks and I’ll set you up with some Tropicals.”
We slavelessly endeavoured to preserve your light form Shane, but were met with scoffing rebuttals and mean, snippy, hard-hearted quips. Another establishment will be frequented in the pursuit of another “bisssh” following a short but timely jaunt to another State five hundred miles to the south. The new fish – plural or singular – should be making his/her/their debut sometime in mid-August.