Almost five years ago little Iggy Pup joined the familia and has been routinely sleeping, adorably rubbing himself on wet towels or being a complete jerk. The Boy and I have chatted off and on about adopting another dog (and raising it right) but nothing has ever really panned out.
Recently, the neighbors slutty little chihuahua got herself knocked up by a visiting stud and plopped out a litter of five pups. The neighbors want us to take one of the little puppers and The Boy won’t stop promising Iggy that we are bringing home a puppy friend.
Two dogs? Scary proposition.
So, do we take the plunge into being a two dog household? I’m hesitant. I remember the puppy training and the first week of sleepless nights very clearly, it was, how do you say? A pain in the ass. But I also remember puppy breath and snuggling and ultra-adorableness. Unfortunately, I’ve made the mistake of visiting the puppies and letting them scamper right into my cold little heart.
Then this little muffin came over to the house for a visit. The neighbors call him Number Three and he is a little mewling bundle of awesome.
Looks like we are getting another dog.
Baby Girl is the momma, just look at those big floppy teats. Cover yourself up girrrrl.
These are some ghetto puppies for sure.
Two more weeks and counting…
