I'm afraid my world has been rocked, but I knew this was coming. We brought home an 8 week old puppy today (we already have 2 dogs). Why, you might ask, would I do this to myself? I'm not sure. I trace it back to holiday spirit that runneth over: husband forwarded email from colleague that had picture of cute-as-can-be puppies needing a home, and I, no doubt enjoying one of many glasses of wine consumed in the latter part of December, enthusiastically replied, "sign us up for one!" Reality set in after new year's, like it always does, as I made frantic runs to pet and book stores figuring out what all needed to happen here. Yes we have 2 Boston Terriers, but the youngest we started was at 5 months and it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. And Lola and Rocco are now, well, quite civilized.
And actually, I stand corrected - it's not so much my world that's been rocked, but the BT's. Rocco appears to be shellshocked. Lola looks at me as if to say, this doesn't mean I can't sleep in your bed now, does it? Day 1, so far, so good. Now all we have to do is settle on a name for her...what do you think? Zuzu or Jasmine?