Eva is my dog. I love her, she's a darling little thing. She's three years old, and has just gotten past all the awful puppy stage things. We've finally learned to live together happily as a family. The kids love her. Even my husband, who once hated her with every fiber of his being, now loves her.
So what do we do with all this love?
Yesterday when my husband picked me up at work, he asked if we could visit the Anti-Cruelty Society because he wanted to see their dogs.
*insert big sigh here*
It's not that I'm against having another dog. No, not at all. It's just that there are already plenty of people and animals living in my house for which I'm already the primary caretaker. So for me, the bottom line is that it's just more shit for me to clean up. Will he be cleaning up dog shit? Cutting dog nails? Giving dog baths? No. It'll fall to me.
We left Anti-Cruelty yesterday without a dog.
Then this morning, my uncle calls me and asks if I like his little beagle, Scotty. Yes, I reply, I like him. He's cute. Why?
(You see where this is going, don't you?)
We now have plans to go visit my uncle and Scotty on Sunday, to see if my husband would like Scotty to be his very own dog. As much as I like Scotty, I know my husband's looking for a bigger, manly type of dog. German shephard, labrador, husky. So I have a feeling that we're dodging the second dog question for right now, but the minute someone calls him with a dog that weighs more than 50 lbs, I'm sure we'll have a new family member.