Hair of the Dog

When we stopped to pick up my grandparents Saturday, Dan'l ran out of the car and started chasing a cute black puppy. My mom said, "Ew, wash your hands," but like the rest of us, he ignored my mom. What he did hear was my uncle telling him that he could have the puppy if his parents said it was OK.

Um, no.

Bringing another dog home was and is the last thing on my mind. Mr. Scampers figured out how to squeeze through underneath the fence into the neighbor's yard and then under his gate to freedom. Every night. On the plus side, he's pooping in other people's yards. On the negative side, I've dealt with the police because of the dog.

But I'm a sucker for animals and want to bring them all home. Never mind that Mr. S. had tick fever recently and had more doctor's bills than Dan'l and me combined. Never mind that my neighbors hate me because of that dog. Forget bout being able to plan a decent trip because we have to take the dog with us and stop every few hours so he can do his business. Like I said, I'm a sucker.

Dan'l mentioned the puppy on our way home and a couple of times on Sunday. He hasn't mentioned anything since. It might be from the silent treatment he's giving me for grounding him (hey, the teacher called ME at work to tell me he's disruptive). If he doesn't mention it again in a week, my conscience will be clear. I may be a sucker, but I'm also a flake.