Wednesday, September 5, 2007


Fatherhood is immediately transformative. I know he's just a puppy, and that I didn't sire him, but he's my boy now. When I wake up in the morning, I am eager to get out of bed to go provide for my guy’s needs. Moi! Nobody would have seen that coming.

And he has a name, tentatively--I mean, I think I'm going to stick with it, but I'm not engraving it on his sterling silver pet dish just yet.

In this photo, he's showing Daddy what I like to call "waggies." When that little tail gets going, any trouble I have completely disappears. How can one have any negative feelings when such a sweetie is clearly so happy to see you.

I have another photo of him that's one of my favorites as well. I was sitting on the couch yesterday and heard a noise on the other side of the coffee table. I peered over to find Oliver tricking out his carrier-bag. It has a mesh lining that cinches closed to keep the little guy from jumping free or falling out. I only needed to use that on the day I came home with him; usually, I just hook his collar to the mini-leash inside of it. Well, first he was chewing the crud out of the thing, so I sprayed some Bitter Apple (wonder-product) on it. When he realized he couldn't chew it, he started to get creative with how to remove it, trying to yank it out with his paws and teeth, bitter flavor be damned!

I looked at him and said, "What are you up to over there, Little Guy?" and he said, "Me?"

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