He is a super-snuggly little Cocker Spaniel, about 7 months old. Nowhere near housebroken, but we're working hard on it. So far, he has been very good. He gets along great with everyone, tolerates our three year old, and is making friends with the other neighborhood dogs. He is a bit of a whirlwind in the house. We've had to do more child-proofing for this pup than we did for any of our kids. The Christmas tree was the first thing to go. It was about time anyway.
We had been talking about adopting a dog for a while, and finally felt like the time was right. We really wanted a Cocker Spaniel (Dave grew up with one), so we looked up a rescue group that focuses on these. Seriously, adopting a dog is a big deal. The application took about two hours to fill out. On Saturday, a lady from the rescue came for a visit to check our home. Up for inspection! We cleaned all morning. "Anyone who wants to get a puppy better help out!!!" (I wish we could adopt dogs more often.)
The idea of someone coming to inspect your home is a bit unnerving. "Is she going to look in the closets?" "What about the fridge?" But all went well. She checked out the house and the fence, and met the kids. We even saw her write "very neat" in her papers. I liked her!
I really wanted to have a dog when I was little. My dad was allergic, so we couldn't have one, but oh, how I wished! At a certain point, probably in second grade or so, I discovered that some of my friends' parents were divorced, and no longer lived together. I told my parents that when they got divorced, I wanted to live with my mom so that we could have a dog. Fortunately, that never happened. I am also beginning to realize now that my dad was never really allergic to dogs anyway...
PS. For those curious about his name.
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