• Posted on:January 9th, 2008
• Comments:No Comment
• Category:My Every Day, Not Poodles

I got an nice yet unexpected e-mail from the couple who owns Newman’s parents. Turns out they’re having their last litter and have three female pups available. They wanted to give notice to all of the folks who have adopted dogs in the past from them. Kind of like being a Macy’s credit card holder and being offered an invite to the private sale.

It must be a combination of feeling sorry for myself and low self-esteem at the moment, but I actually considered that a second dog would be just the thing for Newman. I am practically chortling at that remark (YES, CHORTLING) as the dog is undoubtedly ripping through a bag of potato chips in the pantry, chewing a hole through yet another one of my bras, or leaving a pile of poop on the kitchen floor. And I’m guessing that it’s this same temporary moment of insanity that leads people to say, “I know what will fix our failing marriage: A BABY.”

It’s true that Newman seems better behaved when Tobie is up visiting (part of the whole shared custody of the dog from a prior marriage thing). And as much as I love little puppies (aside from the whole peeing on everything and chewing everything in the house thing), I am going to let my better judgment (for once) kick in and say HELLS NO.

And seeing that I’m already the crazy chick who has to find pet-friendly hotels on weekend hockey road trips, I think it’s a little too early for me to become That Dog Lady. Kind of like That Cat Lady. You know who I’m talking about.