The dog that owns my wife and I and is commissioner of the Terran Baseball Association, is two years old today. That’s 14 to you and me. She celebrated oceanside with a few friends then retired to her home to open gifts and enjoy some specially selected treats.
Jango wishes all the best on her birthday.
Recently after years of discussion we adopted a dog. Thank god. It’s over. The guilt trips. The strange behaviour with the stuffed animal. The mournful looks. We have a dog. She’s great. Best dog in the world.But my wife is still acting as if we don’t have a dog in one very odd way. Just like before we adopted Jango, my wife sits at her laptop cruising dog adoption sites, craigslist, and yes, even dogster.
I’m worried.
She assures me she doesn’t want another dog, she’s just looking. Today she put forth the excuse that she’s looking for Jango’s brothers and sisters.
Hmmm.
Perhaps she never wanted a dog at all (not that she doesn’t love Jango. She does. Maybe what she wanted was the search. The looking. The quest. Or maybe she’s tired of talking to me. I know I am.
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