Good advice. Lots of it.
“If I ever get another dog,” Sarah tells me, “it will be a foster.” Sherry says, “My vote is for a shelter dog. Rescued souls are the sweetest, and usually grateful.” Mimi, who’s all for the rescue thing, adds, “Don’t let guilt get to you . . . like, awww, I should rescue a dog. Listen to your heart and find a pal with whom you can enjoy life.”
And then there’s Mary. Mary writes, “You’ll know the right dog when you meet him.” This after gently reminding me, “You know I’ve had beagles since 1967.” In the same vein, my sister: “After careful consideration, I think you should get another beagle.” Wait a minute. Haven’t I said on multiple occasions, if I ever even think about getting another beagle, please shoot me? I wrote back to Sandy: “I always thought the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
Of course Robby, ever open-minded and always ready to compromise, said, after reading my “Future Dog” post: “Ricky is actually 16 times better looking than any of these dogs.”
Oh, my, my, my.
In the meantime, I’ve been hanging out quite a bit with Luke Jr., Mark’s German Shepherd, as I ponder ways to make Carol see what an amazing choice a dog like this would be. So far she’s not been able to see it. We also have a date to visit with Gustav the Norwegian Buhund next week in New Paltz. And last night I got to snuggle with Sammy, my massage therapist’s ferret.
Thinking. Still thinking . . .
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