Saturday, April 18, 2015

I also enjoy cheese!



There is a passage in some PI book that I read, back when I was capable of being literate, describing a socialite. She had what was assumed to be a dog tucked under her arm. It was approximately the size of a walnut and appeared to be bred to be afraid. 


Unfortunately for my kids, they have no love for the small and tremor afflicted breeds. To be fair, the adopt-a-Chihuahua does have an ankle-bitting yelp. 



Oscar has a thing for sitting by Odin, reaching up a paw and placing it on Odin's head. Fairly endearing but he will also attempt to plop an oversized paw on Little Man's tiny cranium. In turn, Little Man makes a noise of self preservation when around the big boys. 



Fortunately for the tiny rescue dog, the person in the household who enjoys his companionship, is the one who has the capability of paying the mortgage. 



When my kids occasionally ask how long he will be staying with us (it's only been three years now) I say until something comes along, that is portability size, who loves me more than he does. 



Even when accounting for his close companionship related to my consistent proximately to food, I don't think more devotion it is likely. 

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