We're (okay, I'm) thinking of expanding it . . . . A coworker has four very adorable puppies at her house. I'm particularly partial to the boys, Abner and Lefty (although Lefty could be dangerous, as it might inspire me to acquire a Pancho to go along with). Both are black and white with a touch of brown, thus conforming to the pet color scheme at our house. Jury's out as to whether either will have longish hair (our other pet requirement, evidently).
Parnell is less than enthused about the prospect of another pet. I pointed out that we couldn't possibly have more hair, poo or pee than we already have with a dog, two boys and three cats underfoot - we are literally at critical mass. Or so I thought . . . . On Labor Day, Parnell attempted to do me a solid by locking the (human) boys out of the bedroom so that I could sleep in. He made the mistake of leaving the two Maine Coon boys (see picture; Barkley's on the left, Max is on the right) on my side of the door. Evidently, Max was experiencing some type of intestinal upset. (I should point out here that Max was only recently domesticated and has a flexible definition of what constitutes a toilet. The last time he was accidentally shut out from the litter box, he squatted over the drain in the boy's bathtub. Pretty ingenious, actually.) Rather than disturb me by scratching at the door, he chose to use Ruby's (very cute, red-and-white toile) dog bed in place of the actual "facilities." The poo smell woke me from a sound sleep, and it was about five seconds from bed to the back door, from whence I hurled the dog bed into the backyard.
Kind of chilled the whole "let's get a puppy" sentiment. Parnell is delighted, and I am starting to suspect that he paid off the cat . . . .
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