Laura was recovering from cancer.
I want a dog she said.
I did not want a dog.
I have metastatic cancer. I could die anytime. I want to do things that I want to do. I want a dog.
She had a great point. I was not going to argue. I set out to find a dog. This was an urgent mission. I had no time (nor money) to wait for puppies from a reputable breeder. I did not have the patience to work with a shelter or an animal rescue outfit. With that in mind, I dove headlong into online classifieds in search of cuteness.
We found two six month old puppies that were up for adoption from a private home. One looked like an Ewok, super cute. The other, his littermate, was not so cute. His hair was scraggly, his tail, ratlike.
We made arrangements to pick up the cute one. The red, ratlike one could go live with someone else. At least, that was the plan.
If you’re a dog person, it’s very clear that I had made several bad decisions already. I was on a roll it seems as I just kept making them.
Get in the car kid…
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