We talked about cats last week, and this week our prompt is a picture of some cute puppies.
Even though I’m more of a cat person, I like dogs. They’re a lot of work: they have to be walked several times a day, I would have to put up a fence that the dog couldn’t jump over, and I’d have to train it not to bite strangers. Aside from that, the cost of the food and veterinary care is comparable to that of cats.
I had a bad experience with a dog we had when I was in high school, who I talked about a couple of years ago. He was a rescue dog and had a few psychological problems, like being possessed by the devil. Mom’s other dogs were all right, though. Actually, Fred, a Schnauzer, was my brother Pat’s dog, but Wizard, who we called Whiz because that’s what he did on the carpet, was Mom’s. When she was in the hospital and it was apparent she wouldn’t be coming home, two of my aunts said they’d take him. They live about two houses apart, and he split his time between them.
When I was back in grade school, we moved in to an apartment that was owned by an older couple who had an old Cocker Spaniel who didn’t like us. Didn’t attack or anything, but just acted grumpy and barked a lot. When she (the dog, not the landlady) died, they replaced her with a toy poodle named Buttons. The first Sunday they left the dog alone (he was a night watchman, she was a waitress, and they both worked Sunday nights), he howled all night. Dad came up with a solution: leave the dog with us. He was a nice little guy (the dog, not Dad, though Dad was a nice big guy) and we liked having him around. (Dad wasn’t that big, about 5’9" and 150 lb, but he was bigger than the dog.)
I could go on, but you get the idea.
Christine runs Simply 6 Minutes.