All three of us fell in love with a puppy for about a minute today.
Okay, maybe it was longer than a minute.
Maybe about twenty.
It happened entirely by accident. John had been entertaining Benjamin in Petland so I could shop for birthday party favors at a store next door.
Like Murphy, she’s a pure-bred Wheaton Terrier. And as my Twitter friends were quick to point out, probably came from a puppy mill.
But. She is still a puppy.
And when I held her she cuddled right up into my chest.
Can’t even believe this little brown fuzz ball is going to turn into a white Wheaton Terrier, like Murph.
And I can’t even believe I have gone from being sublimely indifferent to the love and emotions dogs bring to completely head over heels. I blame this guy.
Such a sucker. But I am resisting. For now. If she’s still there in three weeks, outgrowing that miserable cage – I may have to rescue her. I don’t care where she came from.
I am delusional right now. Daydreaming of having a household with two Wheaton Terriers, one man, and one four year old.
But, hey, we could all go to puppy mill protests together. Right? Cuddling all the way.