Our family has expanded by one.
Buddy the Dog is now living in our house. Or I am now living in Buddy’s house. I can’t decide which one is true (that is a lie… I know exactly which one it is).
It is now Buddy’s house. For the next 15 years, I am living under his roof by his rules.
Don’t worry, I am flexible and will adjust.
I will just do what Bud wants and try to keep my nose clean.
Meanwhile he seems to be adjusting to his new home.
He worked in a good hour nap in the truck on the way home. It took him about 8 seconds before he settled in for a long snooze.
We did wake him up long enough to go in the pet store. Turns out he is a chick magnet. Girls came from all over to slobber on him. Or vice versa.
When we got home he felt comfortable enough to go downstairs (when I carried him) and enjoy some Nickelodeon on our big screen TV. Turns out the Mancave is
now Bud’s Room.
It has now been almost 24 hours of listening to my daughter giggle at his every move.
I have a feeling this is what it will be like when she first starts dating. Lots of fawning, waiting on him hand and foot, laughing all the time, letting him watch my TV, thinking he can do no wrong… not sure I am looking forward to any of this.
Well I have at least 8 years to dread that.
Presently, I have other troubles.
Buddy the Dog has won the lottery. He has left the show ring for the life of luxury. Doesn’t seem to miss the kennel in the least.
He has won and I have the feeling I may have lost.
I feel like I need to win a lottery to pay for all of his toys, crates, collars, leashes, food, treats, and beds.
The pecking order has changed.
I am not sure where I rank, but I am pretty sure it’s not first.
Welcome home Buddy. If you need anything, just let me know (he is still struggling with changing the channels by himself).