The dog’s name was Hank. A one-year-old German Shepherd/Irish Wolfhound mix. That’s all I knew. He would need exercise. Lots of exercise. Scott has an okay sized house. Nice kitchen, generous living room, one bathroom and two bedrooms. The backyard, however, is the problem. Too small, with fences that are too short and pretty damn shaky. The boys do have a laundry room where the dog could stay during the day, but there’s no crate sold by man to hold that puppy. I tried to convince Scott that a smaller dog, even a cat, might be a better option. Alas, I had to give in. Scott loved this dog, and I had to count down the days until we went to the shelter to pick him up. After talking with officials from the shelter, we did everything necessary to get ready. Doggie=proof the house. Buy water and food bowls that are difficult to tip over (they will be, anyway). Good puppy food. Wood planks that we later sanded smooth and made into a crate. Big thick blanket to put in crate. About fifteen different toys. A strong harnass that fits the dog now, and a place to get a bigger one (hard to find, let me tell you). And tons of doggie treats.

You can tell how not entirely looking forward to it I was. But when Scott brought me to the shelter, I discovered why he had fallen for this dog. He is so cute. I wish I had my digital camera for this. He was all over the three of us in the meeting room. Most of my inhibitions disappeared in that room. We drove him home and have been getting him used to the house, and it’s slowly working, I think. We just have to get him used to not jumping on the kitchen counters and tables. Sleeping in our bedroom. Morning runs and quality time in the evenings. I can get used to this. And we renamed him, since he hasn’t responded to his old name. The shelter staff told us that they only had the puppy for a few months, and that he didn’t have a name that they were aware of before. So we named him Dash, and he seems to have taken to it a little bit. Just think: for Christmas, he'll be Dasher. Wicked.

That’s about the extent of my day. Probably tomorrow too. And many weekends to follow. But I suppose my boys are worth it. I wonder how much sleep we’ll get tonight. Gah, there goes the sex life.

So many people that I have read about lately have been so unhappy. I hope everything turns out for the best.