Tomorrow is my 32nd birthday but never mind that, we're getting a puppy on 1st March. This will be the most responsibility I have ever had, except that time I had to walk across a road with my friend's baby in my arms. I'm pretty terrified, also excited. We went to meet him last weekend, he's adorable, his breeders are lovely people and the other dogs in the house all have a really nice temperament, they didn't even jump on us when we walked in.
I'd normally spend my online window shopping time browsing shoes I can't afford, not any more, or at least not this week. No, the last few days I have been investigating puppy toys, treats and beds. I have found him a leopard print bed, perfect.
What have I become? I'm going to be such a dog bore, I know it already.
I'm taking comfort in the fact that I'm not quite as mad as Mr T. I got home from the gym last night to find him setting up an email account for the dog, he's not going to be sending emails, of course, that would be stupid. No, he's got his own email address so that he can have his own Instagram account. I'm not even joking about this. He's already got 29 followers. It's sweet really, to see how excited Mr T is. He was off work on Monday, while he was in Tesco buying wiper blades he also bought Albert (that's what we're going to call him when he comes to us) a ball in the shape of Gnasher, of Denis the Menace fame.
I may as well move out, I don't think Mr T's going to need me for company once we have Albert living with us. Many a true word said in jest...
No comments:
Post a Comment