A Destructive Pooping Love Machine

I have been vehemently against bringing a dog into our family for a long time. I always used random and very valid excuses such as “our landlord doesn’t allow it” or “the kids are too young” or “we don’t own the house”.

But now we own a house, don’t have a landlord, and my kids are plenty old enough (not that I’ll ever admit they aren’t my tiny babies)

So, of course, we now have a dog.

daww look at those ears

What’s funny about this situation is that it was me that first met the dog, first fell in love, and first raised the idea to my wife. She, wanting a dog for forever, clearly was not understanding when I started sending her pictures of this dog.

I’ll just say that owning a dog is self serving as I want to live a happier, healthier life. It’s a known fact.

(maybe it’s the repeated bending over to pick up steaming piles of poop)

One thing I did not expect was how concerned our dog was when I was not feeling the greatest last night. She kept her paw and her eye on my all night long as I was battling an insane migraine huddled under a blanket.

don’t worry dad, I’ll make you better… with millions of licks