So I went to Connecticut to visit my aunt a few weeks ago. She just had a litter of Bernese mountain dog puppies. Well, not my aunt specifically... but you get the point. They were flipping adorable. And you know I just HAD to have one. Except there's a small problem. I already have 3 dogs. Three LARGE dogs. All logic and reason says I should not sign up for another 100 pound dog.
But who ever called me reasonable?
After telling my aunt how she should entrust one of her prize show dogs in my care, I proceeded to call my husband, plotting how I would ask/beg/trick him into agreeing to this silliness.
I called him at 4pm. He had apparently spent the afternoon at a bar with his neighborhood boyfriend - a friend of ours who lives down the street. He was - well, inebriated would be generous.
The conversation went like this.
ME: Honey, these puppies are so freaking cute. I need to have one.
ALAN: Sure.
ME: What would you do if I brought one home?
ALAN: Puppies are great! Do it!
ME: You mean it? I can bring home another dog?
ALAN: Why not?
The next day, after calling the airline to confirm our new friend's travels, I call Alan again.
ME: You sure you're okay with the puppy?
ALAN: Huh?
ME: You said I could bring home a puppy.
ALAN: I did?
ME: Yes, you did. And his flight is booked.
ALAN: Shit.
So, that's what happens when you're too drunk to tell your crazy wife no.
So... presenting... RUGBY!!! He's adorbs. And a little stinker. He'll fit in just fine :)
No comments:
Post a Comment