We bought a dog last month. It was an impulse-buy. See, we went to Kentucky to visit my mom while she was working down there. Jackson, KY is small, and a big night on the town is choosing between one of the five sit-down restaurants, going to Wal-Mart next door, and then going to the pet-shop on the way out of town. (It has to be an early night, though, because the pet-shop closes at 8.)
So we had our big night on the town. We went to Alberto's, which is a kind of Mexican/All American/Whatever the chef feels like making that day/restaurant. The bread pudding was a.maze.ing. Got a loofa and some cleaning supplies at Wal-Mart, and headed to the pet-store. Now, I'd been saying that I wanted a cat for some time, but Meng isn't really a cat person. Still, if we saw a cute kitten, I thought I might be able to convince my (heart of marshmallow for cute things) fiancee that he should get me one.
Well, we walked into the pet store, and there were no kittens, but there was this single Maltese puppy in a cage full of rowdy Yorkies. Maybe it was how obviously uncomfortable he was with those other dogs that made us melt for him. He was so soft and cuddly...
We waited almost 24 hours before buying him. We named him Bailey, because it was the only thing we could think of that would indicate color without sounding sissy, like "Snowflake," or "Fluffy."
So now on top of an almost-toddler, we are house breaking a new puppy.
I thought to tell you all this because at this moment he is sitting on my chest (I can barely see over his fluff), licking my shirt. It's rather hard to ignore.