I take a break from our regularly scheduled program to interrupt you with this:
"Oh my gosh! He's absolutely adorable" you're thinking. You're continuing with, "Look at that cute little puppy face and those beautiful floppy ears! Awww...." Well, fast forward 8 months:
That's right, folks. 120 pounds of clumsy muscle comin' at ya! Without going on and on about how this dog/horse came about, let me make sure I at least tell you that this is my FIRST DOG ever. It's not that I don't like dogs. I just consider myself more a cat person. They're neater, they have cute little paws, and--oh yeah--they don't DROOL. I'm pretty sure cats don't do this to your favorite pair of Franco Sarto boots, either.
I'm pretty sure they don't rip the legs off not one, but two Gabriella dolls from High School Musical. (No pictures posted out of respect for Troy.) When he's laying down doing nothing, I think that maybe for a moment I like him. Then he gets up and jumps on the counters to get anything his 24 inch tongue can reach--again. I'm just lettin' you people know. I'm not real happy with this "family decision" we made to get this dog. I know I'm in the minority, and I am so appreciative that we have people in this world who love and care for these things. I just think I'm getting a little tired of the drool, the jumping on the counters, the gas that smells like death has come out of his rear end, and...oh!...finding dog hair in places that I should NOT be finding it. Thank you for listening to my rant.
We now continue to our regularly scheduled program.