Whee, Doggie!

I've gained a new appreciation for the words of the immortal Jed Clampett that head this post.

Last month we added a new resident to the six (seven in the summer) who share our two-and-a-half-bedroom apartment: a ten (now eleven)-month-old half yellow Lab–half golden retriever named Amsterdam. He's frisky, friendly, and housebroken. And so far, he's weathered the assaults of the other puppies in the house. He's an early Christmas present for child #2, who's wanted a dog for years.

Now, I'm not someone who's wanted a dog for years. I've always thought of myself as a cat person, though feline friends make my eyes itch and my sinuses throb. You know, little animals that keep pretty much to themselves, stay indoors, and catch the occasional mouse. So it's been a surprise to me that I don't just tolerate but enjoy snapping Amsterdam's leash onto his collar and heading up to the dog run to watch him cavort with his neighborhood species-mates. And it's truly a joy to have at least one member of the household who's glad to see me whenever I open the door. Whee, doggie!